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THE 



Poetical Works 



OF 



John Preston Campbell. 



53 



0^/^-0^ 



TOPEKA, KANSAS : 
GEO. W. CRANE & CO., PRINTERS AND BINDERS. 

1885. 






Entered according to act oE Congress, in the year 1885, by 

JOHN PRESTON CAMPBELL, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



PEEFACE. 



^^ 1*^ venturing to collect and pnblisli in book form, the 
^l scattered children of my muse, I do so mth great 
hesitancy, knowing that to launch these tender 
nurslings of my aifecti(fli upon the unknown sea of criti- 
cism may endanger their lives. But whether they shall 
reach the harbor of fame in safety, or sink into oblivion 
and forgetfiilness beneath the scathing words and im- 
perial frown of some self-constituted critic, I shall be 
content in ki^owing that even the sarcasm of a Swift 
cannot deprive me of the pleasant hours spent in the 
the production of the lines which I now offer to the 
public. 

Crude and imperfect as they are, still the just criti- 
cism of a generous public, and the touch of maturer 
manhood, may yet correct their faults. 

J. P. C. 
Januaky 2, 1885. 



NOTICE TO THE PUBLIC. 



Several of these poems have been published at intervals in some 
of the periodicals of the country, under the name of Arthur E. 
Silverthorn, a mere fancy of my own, perhaps without justification. 

All rights, however, are reserved by the author. 

John Preston Campbell. 



TO THE MEMORY 

OF 

LVELLA ANN ALEE EDSON, 

THIS VOLUME IS 

AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 

BY THE AUTHOR. 



CONTENTS 



Proem, 

Those Hills of God, 

The Valley of Visions, 

The Lady of Lodel, 

The Minstrel and the Maid, .. 

Irene Imogene, .. .. 

The Peri's Pardon, 

The Fountain of Youth, 

Peath in the Pear, 

Elza Dreve, 

A Hut in the Forest, 

Those Celestial Bells, 

The Chimney Sweep, 

The Mists of the Morning, .. 

Despair, 

The Stream of Time, 

The Immortal Masters, 

The Harp of a Hand That's Still. 

Celestial Melodies of the Air, 

Love and Time, .. .... ., 

The Poet's Departed Shades, .. 
The Shadows of the ^ight, .. 
Darts of Death, .. .. .. 

A Poet of a Golden Age, .. .. 

The Sea of Galilee, .. 

We Come and Go, 



9 
11 
17 
45 

55 

61 

69 

71 

73 

77 

81 

85 

89 

93 

95 

101 

105 

109 

113 

117 

121 

:23 

125 

129 

135 

137 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

The Headless Horseman, 143 

Anelbe and the Angel, 149 

Sir Robert Gives had Seven Wives, . .. .. .. 155 

Mildred, 171 

Two Angels, .. .. .. .. 175 

Annalee, 183 

Orpheus and Eurydice, 189 

St. Peter at the Gtate, .. .. .. 195 

The Land of Love, 199 

Life's Battles, 205 

Brave-Born Souls, .. .. 207 

There is I^o Unbelief, 209 

How A Lark Cheered a Drooping Soul, .. .. 212 

Flakes of Snow, 214 

The Orderly's Ride, 216 

Eventide in the Rhineland, 219 

Away To-ISTight, 221 

Midnight on the Battle Field, 222 

Sitting at the Stile, 224 

Our Sleeping Dead, 226 

Hope on, 228 

Buried Years, .. .. .. .^ 230 

Mabel May, .. < ..233 

'No Earthly Voice, , 235 

E^EARING THE EnD, 237 

Death and the Fairy Fay, 239 

The Paradise Light, 240 

Fairy Shore, •.. .. .. 243 



PROEM. 

Children of my fancy, 

Whatever your fate may be, 
Whether you reach the harbor 

Or perish in the sea : 
Memories fond will ever come back to me, 

Of the early time. 
When first I penned 

The thought sublime, 
Of those mountains grand. 
Eternal still as heaven's command ; 

And of the later day, 
I sought to pen a longer 

And a more enduring lay. 

Whoever the critic be. 
Whatever fault he may see, , 

Each word and line 
Is dear to my muse and me ; 

And blest memories may entwine 

Round thoughts, lofty and sublime, 
Through the association of sympathy, 

Which the heartless critic 
May never see, 



10 PROEM. 



As by pen and rule, 
He follows the formal methods 

Of the school ; 
Marching on life's parade, 

With gilded bow and shaft, 
Against each literati arrayed, 

Striving only to shine 
By the utter annihilation 

Of some friendless rhymer's rhyme. 



THOSE HILLS OF GOD. 



NOTE. 

This poem was suggested to the author while sitting on a peak of the 
Eocky Mountains one afternoon, near the " Garden of the Gods.'^ The 
subdued carol of birds, the sounding of 'waterfalls, and the sublime scenery 
of mountain peaks against the azure sky, stretching aivay into infinity, made 
impressions upon my youthful mind ivhich I had never- realized before. 

a 



THOSE HILLS OF GOD. 



Those hills of God, 
Those sentinels of time, 
Kock-ribbed and ancieat, 
Formed by a hand divine. 

Tho' covered v^ith snow 

In Autumn's glow, 

Or bleak and bare, 

Those sentinels of air, 

Point heavenward everywhere. 

Those hills of God, 
All bare and broad. 
Towering so high, 
Their summits seem 
To reach the sky. 

Those hills of God, 
Those peaks of light. 
Immortal gleam 
Through all the night. 



14 THOSE HILLS OF GOD. 

Those hills of God, 
That beck and bow 
At the Eternal's nod, 
Oh, let mj song applaud I 

Those hills of God, 
Those sentinels grand, 
Eternal are 
As heaven's command. 

Those hills of God, 
Where the ancient Shepherd 
All unshod, 
Sought the lost one 
Fainting on the sod. 

Those hills of God, 
And towers sublime; 
Upon their summit's line. 
Mortal eye may see 
The footprints of the Deity. 

Those hills of God, 
And soulless stones. 
Are supporting now 
Bright, viewless thrones. 



THOSE HILLS OF GOD. 15 

Those bills of God, 
And towers of might, 
Angels visit 
On their earthward flight. 

From those hills of God, 

Mortal may, 

With eye supreme. 

Catch a heavenly gleam 

Of the thitherward shore unseen; 

While round their summits go. 
Winging from this world below, 
Amid a glorious, golden glow, 
Many a little cherub sprite. 
On that mysterious flight 
To worlds of endless light. 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 



PART FIRST. 
A Mysterious Realm. 



I. 
There is a valley, 

Deep, mystical, queer, 
With a sort of an alley. 

Leading to the castle of fear. 
Located somewhere 

Between this floating ball, 
And a city celestial, fair. 

Where the apples of paradise fall. 

II. 
l^either river nor strand 

Breaks on the view. 
But a kind of mystified land 

As you wend this valley through; 
Where a deep brooding gloom 

Hangs dimly around,^ 
Both at night and noon 

In the depths of this desert profound. 



20 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 

III. 

In this region so dim, 

So lonely remote, 
The fancy may swim, 

And swimming float, 
Through leagues of dead space; 

Where never a living thing 
Or one of the race 

Ma}^ be seen on the wing. 

IV. 

Dim, distant and far, 

Yague, fathomless and cold. 
Glimmers the ghost of a star 

Over this valley so old; 
Like a somber lit ray 

Gilding the graves of the dead. 
Or a gleam of the judgment day 

Breaking round the cold head. 

V. 

There fleshless phantoms stalk 
Upon the grassless wold, 

And at the stride of Time doth mock. 
Whose touch is no longer cold. 

In those undulating plains. 
Beyond the river of mists, 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 21 

Where eternal stillness reigns 
And each one doeth as he lists. 

VI. 

By some transporting spell 

I entered this valley of visions, 
While I in the flesh did dwell, 

Against my prior decisions. 
But brave as I am, 

And solicitous to know, 
I felt a sort of qualm 

About my being go. 

VII. 

But listen unto me 

And I'll tell to you. 
Without favor or fee, 

That which I never knew 
Till those regions I had trod. 

Ranged not by mortal man, 
Beyond the domain of God, 

And Satan cloven shod. 

VIII. 

' Twas there I saw 

A shadowless shade. 
Of wing and claw 

That naught divine e'er made; 



22 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 

Wrinkled, crinkled and grim, 
Limping lonely across tlie wold, 

As if the distant ages dim 
On his frame had hold. 

IX. 

With scepter in his fleshless hand. 

And a sort of bearing brave, 
He ruled the mystic land 

Beyond the Stygian wave ; 
And when he me beheld, 

He raised his withered cane ; 
Which had the twist and twirl of eld, 

And thus he spake in labored pain 



PART SECOJfD. 
The Shadowless Shade. 



I. 

*' What seekest thou, 
In this valley now ? 
I^either hell nor Heaven, 
Hobgoblins, witches seven, 
Nor the widow of Nain, 
With her hand of leaven. 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 23 

Hath crossed this plain, 
Till from the flesh shriven. 

II. 

^'I hold the key 
To this vale of mystery, 
And at one sweep 
Of my viewless wing, 
I could around thee fling 
An army of spectres gaunt. 
That would tear thee limb from limb, 
As they would an ant; 
And hurl thee deep within 
Darksome regions dim. 

III. 

"But thou seemest to be 
1^0 common form of mortality. 
And perchance may safely go 
Through the land of mist and woe." 

IV. 

Whereat he waved his hand, 
In gesture of command ; 
And there passed before my view. 
Myriads of weird things. 



24 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 

Some with claw and finger too, 

And others with wizen wings, 
Indeed they were a motley company 
That dwelt within the vale of mystery. 

V. 

They didn't laugh, 

They didn't cry, 

But a kind of mournful sigh 

Swept the valley through. ; 

As if some source of pain 

Lay hidden beyond my view. 

VI. 

Then the shadowless shade, 
Took me to his castle, made 
With golden gilded tapestry, 
Like that which decks 
The moonlit lea, 
]N^ear a foam-crested sea. 

VII. 

The rooms Avere neither large nor small, 
The ceilings did rise and fall 

At the wish and will of my guide. 
Who showed those mysteries 

With high and haughty pride. 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 25 

VIII. 

A row of golden bells, 

Hung round the emblazoned panels; 

^Hiich lit each spacious room 
Like death's feeble taper 

Burning dimly at the tomb. 

IX. 

The floor was inly laid 

With a transparent something, 
By skilled phantisians made ; 

And the furniture fine. 
Had come from unknown workmen, 

Of the ether line. 
And was loosely placed around; 
Which moved without a sound, 
As we wended on 

From room to room, 
About that gilded castle 

In the valley of doom ; 
Which shadowy seems and queer 
To one of the earthly sphere. 

X. 

From thence we cleft the ether line, 
With mystic wings. 
Which had been furnished. 



26 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 

By this guide of mine ; 

Till pausing on a golden boundary, 

Thus he spoke to me : 

XI. 

"Mortal, this is the line 
Between my shaded realm. 
And just Alla's clime ; 
Thither thou canst not go, 
Hither no rills of mercy flow ; 
'No blest Peri wings its flight. 
Over this line so fair and bright. 

XII. 

"^o sound or seraph crowned 

My dim retreat hath ever found. 

In short, there is no interchange 
Between my viewless company. 

And those who freely range 
Over the hills of sanctity." 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 27 



PART THIRD. 

The Invisible Line. 



I. 

]From this spot we flew 

To an invisible line, 

Which dimly burned 
With white and blue. 

It proved to be 

The dividing line, 

Between this valley 

And the dreadful mart. 
Where the devils all free 
^evel in sport and glee. 

II. 

In mystic speech, once more. 

With much meaning. 
Or meaningless as before, 
Thus spoke the stranger guide to me 
Concerning this new found mystery: 



28 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 

III. 

''Mortal! see'st thou that line, 
Drawn between my realm 
And where the tires of hell shine? 
'Tis the boundary set to be 
The dead line to all eternity, 
Between those dominions and me ; 
Beyond which none ever go 
From this valley to the shades of woe;; 
And none from thence may come, 
As the ages of eternity run. 

IV. 

" And were it not for this 
All earth would be amiss, 
Because my crippled sprites. 
Would put out hell's lights 
Which sometime gleam across the void 
When they feel with weariness annoyed, 

V. 

"And as the devils do 
Build up those fires anew, 
They sometimes make 
E'en my dominions quake, 
With their thirstful wail 
To make hell's minions quail. 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 29 

VI. 

■"Indeed, sir, venturous one, 

Were it not for this line. 
Hell's mighty legions 

Would with mine combine. 
And march against just Alia, good. 

And tear from heaven 

Whate'er there is divine, 
Which ages long hath stood. 

VII. 

"" For they sometimes think 
As the sulphurous wave they drink, 
That Heaven's royal Prince 
Hath laid too great a curse. 
On his children of the universe. 

VIII. 

■""But no foot may shun * 

The line by some mishap run, 
Round this vale of mist. 
When earth and ocean kist 
The new creation's light. 
At the dawning of day 
From universal night. 
When no weird thins: 
On foot or wing. 



30 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 

E'er woke an echo's swell 

In the chaste dominions where I dwell. 

IX. 

"But I've heard whisper 

That a time will come, 
When a form all heavenly, divine, 

Will about these wastes appear. 
With vesture fair and fine, 

Bright, shining, clear. 
And disperse the shadows 

Which I've assembled here, 
With blast from a golden horn, 

When ushering in 
The world's new morn. 

X. 

"Sav, stranger, then. 

What thinkest thou 
Will become of my secluded glen^ 

And the shadowy hosts I've led 
Ever since ^'our Mother Earth 

Felt man's tread. 
And went bounding into birth. 

Heaven won't want us there, 
The decrepit and weird. 

Among the shining fair: 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 31 

For we'd mar its holy joy 

And work the saints 
Of glory foul annoy; 

In the land where always May, 
Sheds her fragrant bloom 

And perfume gay, 
On seraphs wreathed in flowers, 

Singing amid amaranthian bowers. 

XI. 

^' Thou speakest not, 
Thou stranger guest. 
To this soul opprest. 
Then go with me, 
And thou shalt see 
Souls more white than thine. 
Deep penance doing 
In the pit of purgatory. 
With light divine o'erflowing." 



82 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 



PART FOURTH. 
The Pit of Purgatory. 



I. 

Whereat he ilew 
Right onward through, 

Leagues of dead space, 
And of wonderment, too : 

Leading me free, 
As the billow-bounding sea. 

To a curious cavern's mouth. 
In his dominions 

Farthermost souths 
He slacked his pinions, 

Then, pointing to the pit, said he: 
"Behold the festive fair of purgatory!" 

II. 

Within the pit I saw 
Wretched shapes of awe. 
Doing penance to atone. 
With grief and groan, 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 33 

For the sins of earth, 

From Father Adam given 
At each succeeding birth, 

By the decree of Heaven. 

III. 

Sometimes frivolity and mirth, 

Swells high the chorus 
Of voluptuousness, 

With music deep, sonorous; 
Till the whirl of dizziness 

Overcomes the mind, 

In its giddy search to find, 
Some pleasure in the bowl 

Of bitterness they drain, 
In deep anguish of soul. 

Within the pit of pain. 

IV. 

'Twere long to tell 

What scenes I saw. 
What there did dw^ell. 

For my vision, running out, 
Reveled carelessly about. 

Through all that hidden place, 
JS'ever seen before 

By mortal face. 



34 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 

V. 

There was suflering, yes, 

Everything ran to excess: 

In those regions dim, 

Vagaries did float and swim. 

And when a spirit came flitting, lean, 

It seemed the apparition of a dream. 

Or some shape of boding ill, 

Turned loose in melancholy mood to kill, 

VI. 

There were spirits the length of a span, 
And the brawny bones of man; 
There were skulls scattered round; 

And ever and anon 
A deep groaning sound. 

As if making moan for the decay 
Silently working away. 

Crumbling to mold 
Mortal bodies of srold : 

As if to wipe 
From the catalogue of Time 

The last type 
Of the form divine; 

In that fanciful clime 
Which superstition hath built, 

On the martyred blood 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 36 

Church persecution hath spilt, 
To pave the way to Heaven 
For the redeemed and foro-iven. 

VI. 

In fine, vou might see, 

In the pit of purgatory. 

Any fleshless thing 

With claw or wing, 

With bone or groan, 

With hollow eye or sunken face. 

In attitudes of grace. 

Doing penance and dole 

For the peace of the soul, 

By purgatorial light 

I^either warm nor bricrht. 

Where always night 

Broods on the dreary waste ; 

And each movino; thin 2:, 

Of claw or winor. 

Cuts the silent air 
Where no man is king. 

Through the valley there. 

VIII. 

Oh, the imploring look, 
And sorrowful sigh 



S6 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 

Those penitents took, 

As I passed them bj. 
On an archway bright, 
Emblazoned in letters of light 

With golden carvings nice, 
I beheld these words 

Of strange device: 
"N'either shadow nor shade 
May join the heavenly parade, 
Till true penance it hath made. 
This judgment, I, 
The ruler of the sky. 
Have on all things laid." 

IX. 

Much I marveled 

That there should be, 

Such dh^e decree 

In the shadowy vale of mystery: 

That artist could be found 

In those dim dominions round. 

Who could trace those letters free, 

Like pencilings of the Deity. 

X. 

But there they were, 
Full shining forth 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 37 

Without blot or blur, 

In a realm far 
From earth or star, 
Wliere shapes of misery are. 

VI. 

'Tis true, some vague tradition tells, 

Of a point or place 
Where the departed dwells, 

Till they have gotten grace, 
And sinless come. 

With angel face, 
'ISTeath the rays of eternity's sun; 

Which guilds the holy hill of God, 

Where no polluted foot hath trod, 
Or discord's grating jar. 
Where all the loved and loving are. 

XII. 

And some old son of song, 
With mumbling tongue 
And manners bold, 
Hath in chronicles told 
That beyond the river Styx, 
Kemorse's golden needle pricks 
The sleeping conscience to atone 
For sins so ghastly grown. 



S8 THE VALLEY OE VISIONS. 

Bj some mysterious right, 
The fleshless soul 
Keeps up an endless fight, 
Till never spot or speck 
Doth its whiteness deck. 



PART FIFTH. 

The Place of Skulls. 



I. 

J^rom thence my guide 

Crossed a plain, 
All wild and wide, 

Flowerless, fruitless; 
O'er which no living thing 
Did glide on foot or wing, 
To the place of skulls 
Thrown in at intervals ; 
Regardless of form or kind. 
Brainless, bloodless, blind. 
Indeed it was a ghastly scene 
Which came over 
The spirit of my dream. 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 39 

II. 

Skulls, skulls, skulls, 

Of kings and conquerors. 

Skulls of drones and warriors. 

Of bright divines 

And worshippers, 

Skulls of lords and ladies gay. 

Skulls of poverty stricken peasants, lay 

Scattered round that mystic ground 

On every hand. 

As if some prodigious ban, 

Of excommunication held 

Them in that place ; 

Like monumental stones, 
Or mummies of the race 

Eeared on dead men's bones. 
By the superstitious light 

Made from their marrow, 
Which serves to guide aright 

The robber chief, 
In his hellish work at nio-ht. 

Through ways of grief; 
As he smears with mortal blood. 
The hands by just Alia given. 
With which to earn an honest living. 



40 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 

III. 

Awful, horrid things, 
Without body, legs or wings; 
Expressionless and void, 

Lifeless and null. 
As a dull l^ovember day. 

Was each forsaken skull, 
Mouldering where it lay; 

Waiting the sounding trump 
Of the judgment day. 

To break the reign 
Of universal stillness 

In that mysterious domain. 

IV. 

Thus to me again 

Spoke the withered swain. 

Who was my guide around 
The weird regions 

Of this mysterious ground : 

V. 

" Behold my dominions 
Wild and wide. 

Peopled with a race that's gone, 
Who in their lifetime 
Filled the world with song. 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 41 

And moved the nations great, 
With the cares of men and state, 
Mere wrecks of manhood, 

Skeleton bones, 
Who once with dignity stood 

Filling earth's thrones ; 
But yielding to the decree of fate, 
Came in at the valley gate, 
Never to go hence, 
Till the thrill of life intense. 
Shall fill these m.ortal bones. 
With resurrection groans. " 

VI. 

Ending thus he led me back, 
Over the wondrous track. 
From out that valley strange, 
And wayward, winding range, 
To the margin of this sphere. 

Watered by the rolling main, 
With the single words, 
" Adieu, we meet again ! " 

VII. 

Then away the specter flew. 

And left me in a region 
Both wild and new. 



42 THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 

Long I pondered on what I saw, 
In the valley of visions, 

Beyond I^ature's law ; 
Where neither G-od nor man 

Holdeth reign, 
But some prodigious ban, 

Ruleth the plain, 
Veiled in mystery quite. 
And hid from mortal sight. 

VIII. 

This valley of visions wide, 
Is the midway station 

Between Charon's tide. 
And yonder city fair, 
Built on nothing but the air, 
With golden winding stair. 

IX. 

Formless, phantom's strolls. 
Through the hidden valley 

Of penitential souls, 

Away beyond earth's rim. 
Far, vague and dim 

Through those regions 

Where wonderments begin. 
And shadows float and swim 



THE VALLEY OF VISIONS. 43 

Unreal, unearthly, strange, 
Like moving sentinels 
Along eternity's range. 

X. 

'Tis a valley we 

Shall one day see, 

When the light of life grows dim, 

And our senses swim, 

And the cries of mourners dull our pain; 

And we hear the boatman's loosened chain. 

And the portals of eternity folds 

Forever round our vanishing souls. 



THE LADY OF LODEL 



NOTE. 

While visiting in the West one summer, the author frequently heard re- 
peated the Indian legend of "The Lady of Lodel," which suggested the fol- 
lowing lines. It seems from the tradition that this lady was a beautiful 
Indian queen, who feared death, and sought to guard against the approach 
of the grim shade by a fortification of her island, and a resort to arms ; but 
in vain — hers was the fate of mortals. They still think, however, that her 
spirit hovers near the island, when tired of the sports of "The Happy Hunt- 
ing Ground." C. 



THE LADY OF LODEL. 



PART FIRST. 



In a distant dell 
I've heard the fairies tell, 
At the evening curfew knell, 
Of the Lady of Lodel, 

With her mirage clear ; 
All in the twilight hue, 
And on the sparkling dew, 
Forever plain to view. 

Lighting up the atmosphere. 

This lady grand 

Was queen of all the land. 

Defended by an armed band. 

Who guarded well her island strand 

'Gainst the reaper, Death ; 
For she was very fair. 
With ringlets rich and rare, 
Like some form of air. 

And would not yield her breath. 



48 THE LADY OF LODEL. 

For many years, 
Through joy and fears, 
"With her compeers, 
'Gainst Death she rears 

Her fortress walls, 
And sports the day 
In pleasure's sway, 
I^or thinks of passing away 

Till a croaking voice calls. 

Then a grizzl'd shade 
Strides across the glade 
Through all her armed parade. 
And touches this queenly maid 

With a hand of ice ; 
She feels the thrill 
Of his fingers chill, 
And yields to his iron will 

And quits her earthly paradise. 



PART SECOJVD. 



But her spirit may be seen 
Like a fleshless queen. 
Still sporting on the green 
' Mid shade and shadows sheen ; 
Changed from clay 



THE LADY OF LODEL. 49 

To an airy thing 
With beauteous wing, 
Or some transparent fondling, 
By the imagination's play. 

On moonlight nights, 
Along the heights, 
As eternity's lights 
Oaide viewless sprites. 

She may be seen, 
Commanding the dead. 
With a queenly tread. 
Through realms of dread, 

With a fearless mien. 

Her soldiers gone. 

Parade upon the lawn. 

Singing her dying song. 

Through the day's declining dawn. 

With a sorrowful flow ; 
As if to condole 
The woes of her soul. 
In eternity's goal, 

While they marching go. 

The traveler who strays 

^ N^eath the moonbeam's rays. 



50 THE LADY OP LODEL. 

Or on misty days, 
Doth in horror gaze 

On her apparition there, 
Haunting the island round. 
Like a soundless sound. 
Floating from under ground 

Through all the ghostly air. 



PART THIBl\ 



1^0 hum of insect life. 

Or din of busy strife, 

Or breeze with fragrance rife, 

Or song of toiling wife. 

Breaks on the ear; 
E'o living thing 

From bough to bough to spring, 
On foot or wing, 

Is seen from far or near. 

A death-like stillness stands 
Spreading ghostly hands. 
Over all the lady's lands. 
Where viewless bands, 
Decked with vesture dim. 



THE LADY OF LODEL. 51 

To mortal eye unseen, 
Sport on the verdant green; 
Where no reapers come to glean 
Eound the island's mystic rim. 

There on recurring times, 
When withered witches lines 
Their wild, weird rhymes, 
And the bell of death chimes 

Its heart-breaking knell : 
As some freed soul 
Plunges into the fathomless goal 
Of eternity's roll. 

For heaven or hell. 



PART FOURTH. 



'Tis said there came 
A youth with brow of flame, 
Who spoke the lady's name 
With soft angelic strain, 

Saying, "Follow me 
From your isle away 
Through the gateway of day, 
Into a brightening ray. 

For I'm the herald of eternity." 



52 THE LADY OF LODEL. 

Then the lady with her train, 
Cast one look of pain, 
And spoke the angel's name, 
And mounted up in flame, 

Athwart the heavens borne; 
And with a favoring gale, 
Out of sight did sail, 
Bevond the risins^ veil, 

Into the beams of eternity's morn. 

The island sunk from view 
Like a transient dew. 
Or a ship's drowning crew, 
And oblivion round it drew, 

It's dusky wings; 
Like a vapor chill 
Seemed the abysmal void to fill 
With gloom, more gloomy still, 

Wafted from deep hidden springs. 

'No ghost or goblin then, 
1^0 form or shape of men 
Went through that dusky den ; 
All darkness to the human kin ; 

Oblivion there held reign. 
With undisputed might. 
And no ray of light. 



THE LADY OF LODEL. 53 

Flashed upon the night, 

Through all that dread domain. 

Far away on high 

Through the gateway of the sky, 

Blinding to mortal eye. 

Like a rocket shooting by, 

Burst a flood of light 
Adown the dismal space. 
From the lady's angel face 
Bedecked with golden lace. 

By some seraph sprite. , 

Then she seemed to ride, 

In the golden eventide. 

On charger prancing wide. 

Along the heavenly mountain side; 

Grown more glorious now, 
Queen of a brighter land, • 

And a fairer strand. 
Where death's cold hand, 

Shall never touch that angel brow. 



THE MINSTREL AND THE MAID. 



PART FIRST. 



On a distant mountain side. 

In the golden eventide, 

'J^eath the moonbeam's rays, 

And a kind of lovelio^ht haze: 

E'ear a lake of amber shine, 

Where the myrtle and the eglantine, 

With mutual interlace 

Beautify the lovely place. 

Sat a minstrel and a maid 

On the fragrant, flow^ery glade, 

Talking each to each, 

In mystic meaning speech. 

Of the art that thrills, 

At recurring intervals. 

The soul with chords sublime. 

With the holy flow of rhyme, 

Touched by an immortal hand, 

While journeying to the heavenly land; 

And of the blushing morn 

When true womanhood is born. 



56 THE MINSTREL AND THE MAID. 

With the meek-eyed grace 
Of an angel's in the face; 
And of hope's bright charm 
And the knell of death's alarm, 
"When the reaper's sickle keen, 
With varied flash and sheen, 
Sweeps unsparingly then. 
In among the files of men. 
Gathering the fairest flowers 
From blooming meads and bowers, 
And with relentless stride 
Hurries them over the Stygian tide. 
Away to some mystic glen 
Beyond the river's hem. 

While thus in talk, 

A distant echo seemed to mock 

Their varied speech. 

As they were talking each to each; 

'Twas thus the maiden then 

Spake unto the grandest of men: 



THE MINSTREL AND THE MAID. 57 



PART SECOND. 



'•' Oh, minstrel whence thine art, 
That moves to life the throbbing heart, 
And at the touch of varied strains, 
Thrills with soul-tormenting pains? 
Oh, say, what mystic spell, 

Dear friend of mine. 
Enchants this beauteous dell, 

With thy notes divine? 
A'\^hat holy flow of soul 

From thy minstrel art 
Doth round me roll 

From yon realm apart, 
Destined to be 
The eternal goal 

For this weary heart?" 

The minstrel then replied, 
With tender accents 
Sitting by her side: 



58 THE MINSTKEL AND THE MAID. 

" Sweet maiden mild. 



^? 



More like angel 

Than earthly child, 

This art of mine 

Is the moving of a hand divine. 

The thrilling of these strings 

Is moved by angel wings, 

Poised in attitude to liy 

From earth to sky. 

With the penitential tear. 

Which flows so clear 

Over a sinner's cheek. 

Repentant, warm and meek, 

When some tender strain 

Moves the fount of sympathy again. 

Which for many years 
Hath frozen been 

By sin's soul-chilling tears." 

^' Oh, minstrel may the morn be fair 
That calls you yonder there, 
With your harp and bow 
From this world below. 
And may you sing 
On angelic wing. 
Your sweetest strain, 
Soft as falling rain. 



TUB MINSTREL AND THE MAID. 69^ 

To me sorrowing here, 

As you cleave the ether clear 

Upward to that wondrous sphere." 

" Oh, maiden, cease your plaint. 
Call me not a saint ; 
For I'm a man of sin, 
With God, and heaven and all to win; 
Though divinely gifted, 
When the veil be lifted, 
And yonder flood of light 
Comes blinding to the mortal sight, 
Many will be there, 
Far more fair, 
With a diviner art 
To move the throbbing heart. 
With ecstacy supreme. 
Beyond the Stygian stream, 
And the dreadful sweep 
Of hell so dark and deep." 

^^ Come, minstrel, play 
Your sweetest lay, 
Ere the stride of time 
Enters this sunny clime. 
Changing the fragrant bloom, 
Like mantle of the tomb. 



60 THE MINSTREL AND THE MAID. 

Black as dismal pall, 

To break the cheer of all." 

With that he touched the key 

That woke his sweetest minstrelsy, 

While amid the strings, 

With viewless wings, 

Love's fairies flit 

Which the minstrel's face hath lit; 

Then the current of his soul 

Seemed in music to roll 

Over the golden board, 

Like a psalm of heaven poured 

From ten thousand reeds, 

Touched by angel hands above. 

In the far-off lands of light and love. 

And the minstrel's brow 

Glowed with glory now. 

As if some heavenly light. 

Or meteor's bright celestral ray, 

Broke round the musician, 

While the immortal melody floated away 

On the night wind's air; 
Echoed and reechoed everywhere. 
By invisible singers 

Singing round the golden stair. 



IRENE IMOGENE. 

I. 

Lovely Irene Imogene 

Was a Hindoo valley's queen. 

In the distant days 

When Oriental poets 

Sang the praise 

Of those amorous gods, 

Who left their sphere 
To mix and mingle 

With mortals here. 

II. 

The subject of my song, 
One glorious eventide, 
Roamed the flowers among 
By a streamlet^s grassy side, 

Whose brillant sheen 
Mirrored the mirage 

Of this peerless queen. 



62 IRENE IMOGENE. 

III. 

W^hen winging from some sphere 
In the heavens far remote, 
Out of the ether clear 
A vision of splendor 
Seemed to float, 

Borne on the zephyr's breathy 
Over the way 

This maiden wandereth. 

IV. 

It was the god lone, 

Who reigned on a sapphire throne : 

But tiring of the sky 
And the ritual of that realm 

Where time speeds slowly by,. 
This venturous god 

Earthward cast an eye, 
Perchance some mortal 

Of the softer sex to spy, 
With charms and intellect, 

Seraphic pure and high. 
By some heavenly spell 
To transmit from earthly shores, 
To realms where dwell 

The gods of light alone, 



IRENE IMOGENE. 63 

Without one daughter of Eve 

To share the glory of their throne. 

V. 

While thus wandering he 
Beheld the image fair, 
Like some form of divinity 
Mirrored in the water there, 

As if inviting him 
To linger one moment 

On the shores of death and sin. 

• VI, 

And the maiden she, 

As conscious of a presence 

Which she could not see. 

Drew nearer round 

A breast of snow 

Her milk-white baldrich, bound 

With roses in a row, 

Which hung so loose and low 

That the celestial light, 

Heavenly and bright. 

Shed from the soft wing's gleam, 

Startled Irene Iraogene. 

VII. 

One upward glance 
And look askance 



64 IRENE IMOGENE. 

Startled Irene from her trance, 
For in the heavens she saw 
The god of virtue and of law, 
Casting a covetous eye 
On charms she would let die, 

'l!Teath the water's hem; 
Hid from heaven 

And hid from men. 

VIII. 

She would have flown, 
But for the tone 

And gesture mild 
With which lone 

Bespoke this queenly child. 

IX. 

"Art thou,'' he said, 
"A heavenly form 

Or earthly maid? 

For in these skies, 

My very eyes 

Are blinded with the light 

Of Paradise 

All fair and hrio^ht. 

So that now 

I may not say, 



IRENE IMOGENE. 65 

If thine be a mortal brow, 

Or an angel's fair, 

Who hath lost her way 

In wanderino^ throuo:h 

The gates of heaven. 

Which sometinries are 

Left standing shut, 

Or just ajar, 

To admit angels of mercy, 

Grone on missions wide, 

To meet and guide 

Earth's vanishing souls 

Over the angry tide, 

When death's bell tolls 

Its softened chimes 

On the celestial lakelet's side." 

X. 

While speaking there, 

This god of air 

Alighted on the bank 

Of flowerets fair. 

As Irene, in reply. 

With beaming face 

And sparkling eye. 

Simply answered, "Mortal I." 



66 IRENE IMOGENB. 

XI. 

A scene more bright 

J^ever lit this land 

Of death and night, 

For lone's pure heavenly light 

Fell glorious round 

That spot of earth 

And flowery ground, 

While the gates of paradise 

Seemed opening wide. 

To usher in 

From death and sin 

lone and his queenly bride. 

XII. 

While apart they stood, 

Heavenly they seemed, and good, 

As angels bright of celestial sisterhood. 

But when the divine 

And mortal touch. 

Mingled in love's embrace, 

A shadow dimmed 

The Grod-like face. 

While rays from heaven's gate, 

All darkly falling, 

Too plainly told their fate. 



IRENE IMOGENE. ^67 



XIII. 



Their passion spent 

III love's torment, 

E'en the daisies where they lay 

Seemed withering with the fires 

Of the judgment day; 

While from the charnel pit, 

Shapes of hell did fly and flit, 

Crippled, wild, untame, 

Formless without name ; 

Amid the dance of death, 

They poisoned e'en the very breath 

This guilty pair 

Breathed out of the air, 

For flickering death lights 

Grlimmered and glistened there. 

XIV. 

The god with anger then 
Cursed this daughter fair of men. 
With oaths that must have come 
From the death chant 
His heavenly partners sung, 
When the prince of darkness fell 
From his high estate 
Down to the gates of hell. 



68 IRENE IMOGENE. 

XV. 

Irene's reply 

Was equal wild and high, 

Against the god 

Who robbed her of the sky; 

While the devil's moan 

Dwindled to the very tone 

Of fiendish mockery, 

As her wailings of despair 

Filled all the hideous air. 

XVI. 

Then I saw the tide 

Bear a boatman pale 

To the river's side. 

And they went floating away 

Over the waters wild and wide, 

To the judgment day; 

Each with their sin. 

Stamped and moulded in 

Their very souls, 

Ever more to torment. 

As the fires of duration spread 

Round each guilty head, 

Burning blue, burning red, 

In the valley of Gehenna, 

Roods beyond the realm of the dead. 



THE PERI'S PARDON. 



Amid the wind's low sighing, 
Once a Peri earthward flying, 
Saw a ruined maiden crying, 
As if her heart was dying; 
She sat amid the shrine 
Of dark infamy and crime. 
But the Peri, all divine, 
Spoke to her in heavenly rhyme : 

"Daughter of Eve so fair. 
Why sit you sorrowing there? 
There's mercy yet to spare. 
From the God of earth and air, 
For those who will but pray. 
And sin's cursed minions put away. 
Then be born again to-day. 
And leave its dreadful way." 

I would you had been there. 
To hear the mingled prayer 



70 THE peri's pardon. 

Of the maid and angel rare, 
Speeding to the gates of God so fair; 
While they knelt them down 
Amid ruins old and brown, 
And a silence all profound 
Fell on the consecrated ground. 

A light too bright for mortal eye 
Fell on them from the sky. 
While through heaven went the cry: 
"For such did Christ, the Savior, die." 
The blest Peri's gone. 
And the maiden walks among 
The day's new dawn. 
Filled with a heavenly song. 

She holds a shepherd's wand 
In her sinless hand. 
Straying along the strand 
Like being of another land; 
In meek simplicity of grace. 
With fair and radiant face, 
Like one of the seraph race, 
Grazing flocks from place to place. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 



The golden morn is breaking; 
The night of grief is past; 
The charms of life are waking: 
By the wooing of the blast. 

The merry lark is singing; 
The brook is running clear: 
The chapel bells are ringing 
Out their sounds of cheer. 

The farmer boy is whistling; 
The maiden's face is fair; 
The tender little nursling 
Grows stronger in the balmy air. 

The woods and meadows are ao:low. 
Tinged with a heavenly shine ; 
The rills go rippling with a flow% 
Breathing music almost divine. 



72 THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 

In truth, tliere seems to be 
Some soft and holy spell, 
Floating on the silvery sea, 
From lands where angels dwell. 

Brightening the face of day 
And all nature's hue. 
With an effulgent ray, 
Both grand and new. 

This land of Bula bright. 
Embowered in a sunny dell. 
Is the fount of youth's delight. 
Where no decrepit mortals dwell. 

' Tis just beyond the stream 

Of darkly mirrored shades. 

Where light's eternal gleam 

In splendor breaks, o'er angelic maids. 

We are nearing that strand. 
With a silent, onward roll. 
Where waiting friends do stand. 
To welcome the immortal soul. 



DEATH IN THE REAR. 



I. 

Once on a time, 

A Christian, heavenly divine, 

In a sunny clime, 

Where the myrtle and the eo:lantine 

Bloomed with fragrance rare, 

Ran the race of care, 

Over a rugged way. 

Leading from earth 

To the gates of day. 

II. 

As that Christian ran, 
I saw a man. 
Right in the van, 
With lifted hand 
And spear upraised, 
And as I gazed, 
Methought he threw 
Darts at the Christian 
As he flew. 

III. 
In wild disorder there, 
With bosoms bare 



74 DEATH IN THE HEAR. 

And lifted hair, 

Ran the running pair, 

With all the speed 

Of a warlike steed, 

Rushing madly o'er 

The ground, where thousands 

"Welter in their gore. 

IV. 

The face of Christian beamed 

With light, like that which gleamed, 

And flowing streamed, 

In glorious grandeur teemed 

Over the mount of God, 

When Moses downward trod. 

Bearing the tables of stone 

To a wandering world 

With sin o'erfiown. 

V. 

The face of Death then. 
Seemed horrid to the human ken. 
Running o'er mount and glen, 
In and out the files of men. 
Pursuing that holy soul. 
Fleeing to some goal. 
Deep hidden from the eye, 



DEATH IN THE REAR. 76 

Amid the mists and mystery 
Of a silent, soundless sky. 

VI. 

Then methoaght there flew, 
From Death's cold hand 
A dart of shining hue, 
Which found lodgment true 
In the heart of him 
Who ran from Death and sin; 
At which Christian fell, 
'N^eath the cruel blow^ 
And the victor's yell. 

VII. 

The fiend, 'twas plain to see, 

Laughed in horrid glee, ' 

Gloating o'er his victory, 

As the Christian's blood ran free; 

And he held his dance. 

With strange expression of count( nauce, 

All through the night forlorn, 

Of Death's cold damps 

Setting round the fallen form. 

* 

VIII. 

But at the breaking day 

When monks kneel down to pray, 

The Christian rose from where he lay, 



76 DEATH IN THE BEAR. 

And went winging away 
With a band of angels bright, 
Beyond the distant range 
Of Death's keen dart, 
And ways of darkness strange. 

IX. 

And Death went then, 

Searching for other men, 

Over mountain, hill and glen, 

With shaft upraised again; 

And most faithful he 

Kept up his archery. 

Killing as he run 

The stalwart man. 

And widow's only son. 
> 

X. 

From morn till rising sun, 

Their dying cry rung 

As earth's orb outward spun, 

And into space swung; 

But at times there came 

Rays, brighter than flame. 

From a fair celestial land, 

Where Death shall nevermore 

Raise his cold right hand. 

To strike a mortal on that shore. 



ELZA DREVE. 



I. 
One beautiful eve 
J^ear the river Rhine, 
I met my Elza Dreve, 
' IN'eath the soft moonshine. 

II. 
The winds whispered love, 

And the rippling waters too 
Reflected back the dove. 

Sporting with the wild cuckoo. 

III. 

Cupid's curious bow rang. 

As the speeding dart. 
With gold and silver twang, 

Went thrilling through the heart. 

IV. 

And a love light then, 
With radiance softly fine, 

Lit mountain, hill and glen. 
All 'round the river Rhine. 



78 ELZA DREVE. 

V. 

I clasped the tender hand 

Of my lady fair, 
Standing on the strand 

Of the rippling river there. 

VI. 

I looked into her eyes, 

And something in them seemed 
Akin to spirits in the skies, 

That softly glowed and gleamed ; 

VII. 

Like some immortal thing, 
A moment lingering there. 

Shortly to take wing 
And mount the fields of air. 

VIII. 

I tried to see 

In that brief span 
Her being's key, 

As the restless waters ran. 



IX. 

But the riddle strange 
Deep hidden lay. 



ELZA DREVE. 79 

Beyond my mental range, 

Where mortal might not stray. 

X. 

Then some mysterious spell, 

From out the clouds, 
Over mount and valley fell. 

Like silken, sounding shrouds. 

XI. 

And in that soul eclipse, 

Love's mysterious thrill 
Mingled at the touching lips. 

As night settled on wood and hill. 



A HUT IN THE FOREST. 



A little hut, that's all my own, 

Within a forest far, 
Is built of wood and stone, 

Just under the northern star. 

This little hut so rude 

And rough to see. 
Once was tenanted by an angel good, 

Who was more than wife to me. 

But a dark and dreary shade. 
Came through the open door. 

And took my fairy maid 
To the far off, golden shore. 

Before she went, she wove a spell 
Of some strange magic 'round. 

So here alone I dwell 

In peace, with my faithful hound. 



82 A HUT IN THE FOREST. 

And naught doth our pleasure mar; 

This little home to me 
Is brighter far than any star 

That shines on land or sea. 

I found this bride of mine 

All fetterless and free, 
In a fair, Italian clime. 

Oh ! she was the world to me. 

Some soft and heavenly sound, 

Seraphic and divine. 
Comes floating 'round 

This home of mine. 

And never base-tongued treachery. 

Hath broke the spell. 
Which 'round my home so free, 

Doth on the breezes swell. 

And now and then a note of love, 
Comes floating down the ether line, 

From that angelic being above, 
To this rude hut of mine. 

'Round this island in the sea. 
So far remote from sin, 



A HUT IN THE FOKEST. 88 

Shines a golden beauty on every tree 
That hems my little cottage in. 

And I'm waiting now that she 

May part the clouds of hope, 
Which fell so thick o'er me 

When her thread of life broke. 

And I know that heavenly one, 

When I am called to go, 
Will greet me with a song — 

There's something tells me so. 



THOSE CELESTIAL BELLS. 



Throughout the heavenly dells, 
There softly sinks and swells, 
The rhyming and the chiming 
Of fair celestial bells; 
Blending with angelic mimes 
Their symphonetic chimes, 
And roll of golden notes, 
Which through the ether calm floats. 

In the land where the Jordan swells, 
Some vague tradition tells 
Of the welling and the knelling 
Of bright celestial bells. 
When some repentant one, 
Weary wins the golden goal; 
And a jeweled crown bedight 
In lauds of love and light. 

There sparkling water wells, 

At recurring intervals, 

As the swinging and the ringing 



86 THOSE CELESTIAL BELLS. 

Of tliose clestial bells 
Wake the holy flow of soul, 
With a silver-sou 11 cling roll, 
Much like perennial showers 
Shed on a paradise of flowers. 

The glorious chorus tells 
Of the joy that impels, 
At the swavinsT and the swino-ino^ 
Of those celestial bells; 
Moving the silver leaves 
On golden-shafted trees, 
Whose verdant folias^e rare 
Shelter makes for angels fair; 

Where blooming asphodels, 

And blushing hairbells, 

Move at the tinkling and the jingling 

Of those celestial bells, 

Borne on the balmy breeze. 

Over silver- crested seas. 

Whose bright refulgent beams, 

Mingle with the light eternal's gleams. 

There soft, sweet music swells. 
Amid heavenly hills and dells. 
All gently flowing and golden going. 



THOSE CELESTIAL CELLS. 87 

From the celestial bells, 
As sextons of eternity ring; 
And angels their hosannas sing, 
Wit 1 an immortal strain 
On the high and holy plain. 

Oh, such hallowed spells, 
As sometimes floats and swells, 
Serenely and supremely 
From those celestial bells, 
Pouring sweet paeans of bliss, 
On rivers of sacredness, 
AYhere little cherubs bathe 
In that love-creating wave. 

Oh, let the angels sing! 

And let the bliss of heaven ring. 

To the rhyme and golden chime 

Of those celestial bells; 

Oh, let the music flowing 

Through the soul be going! 

For 'twill purer be 

From that heavenly minstrelsy. 

Oh, raise vour cheerins^ swells. 

Through all the heavenly dells! 

Let sweetest rhymes and softest chimes, 



88 THOSE CELESTIAL BELLS. 

Flow out, celestial bells, 

Over the far, wide sea. 

Where sailing and floating free, 

Goes Charon's ferry line 

To the land of eternal sunshine. 



THE CHIMNEY SWEEP. 



Xonely and late, 
-Struggling with fate, 
Went a chimney sweep by, 
Under the dark, lowering sky; 
Along poverty's bleak line. 
Through the fast drifting snow 
And the ebbing and flow 
Of the tide of old time. 
In the long, long ago. 

The city lights shone 
Xiike a silver-tipped throne 
Through the dark, murky air, 
With a false flashing glare; 
And the grim visaged people 
Seemed a burden to roll 
On his lonely lone soul. 
Like a groan from the steeple, 
Eung out of eternity's goal. 

Oh, the bitterest woes 
The chimney sweep knows, 



90 THE CHIMNEY SWEEP. 

Are heaped upon him 
When the night gathers in; 
As he sinks down to rest 
On the bleak, barren wold, 
Half frozen with cold, 
"With a load on his breast, 
Far away from the fold. 

All deserted and lone, 
What can he do but moan; 
And his condition bewail, 
As the merciless hail 
Rattles down the dim sky. 
Beating in wilderment wild, 
On the chimney sweep child. 
All forsaken to die 
In the drifts deep piled. 

Oh, strange it may seem ! 

Through his dying dream. 

He saw a band of ansrels brio'ht 

Comins: to him that nicrht, 

With a robe of glory fine, 

As he went wandering away 

Over the bleak, barren way. 

From the fold of the ninety and nine, 

To where the imps of misery stray. 



THE CHIMNEY SWEEP. 91 

And a sad refrain, 
With softest strain, 
Those messengers fair, 
Sung over the dying there; 
While a ray of gold, 
In brilliant brightness shone 
Down from Alla's throae, 
On the chimney sweep cold, 
At his last faltered moan. 

Although the earth be drear. 
There's sunshine in the upper sphere, 
For the lonely and lone, 
Who have no home; 
Though friends may not be 
Watching the soul's flight. 
Through the last weary night. 
Waiting stand a company, 
Unseen to mortal sis^ht. 



o 



Go aid the chimney sweep. 
Up life's stubborn steep. 
For he hath a whiter soul 
Than many who stroll 
In lordly garments by, 
Honored with earth's renown, 
And a golden crown, 



92 THE CHIMNEY SWEEP. 

Who never reach the sky 

When their sun of life goes down. 

Over there, perchance, 

In the broad expanse 

Of eternal pleasure, 

Through hours of celestial leisure, 

Crowned with a diadem. 

Playing on a harp of gold. 

Sheltered in the heavenl}^ fold, 

He'll greet us kindly 

When the mists are backward rolled. 



THE MISTS OF THE MORNING. 



The rising mists of morning, 
Tell us daybreak is anear, 

And soon the cloudy sky 
Will all be bright and clear. 

The merry lark is caroling 

A softly tuneful lay, 
And golden light is sparkling 

Around the fount of day. 

All brightly glows and gleams, 
The bridge of celestial tapestry, 

O'er which loving angels go, 
Bearing the holy dead away. 

The shores of the better land. 
Break dimly on the view. 

While waiting angels 

Are beckoning me and you. 

The river of death 

Glides swiftly between. 



94 THE MISTS OF THE MOKNING. 

But it hath no terrors 
In all that gilded scene. 

For a heavenly step divine 
Hath the river spanned, 

And God's eternal Son 

Reaches to us his own right hand. 

Away beyond the river's brink, 
A celestial city stands. 

Whose fair inhabitants 
Are bright angel bands. 

Where the weary soul. 

May bathe in endless bliss. 

In the eternal flow 

Of the river of sacredness. 



DESPAIR. 

Once on a time, 

While I mourned 

Over some mishap Qf mine, 

The ghastly raven of despair 

Came croakins: 'round me there, 

With such a hideous straiu. 

That I deemed 

Some sea witch of the main 

Had lent her aid 

To torture and to pain 

My half- crazed brain. 

While thus I pondered. 

As in thought's deep maze, 

I strayed and wandered 

Over dark and devious ways; 

There came to me 

A form divinely fair, 

A radiant angel rare, 

"Straight from the fields of paradise, 

Cheering my soul's despair. 



96 DESPAIR. 

In her soft, white hand 

She bore a silver wand, 

And wore a golden crown, 

All sparkling bright 

With jewels 'round, 

Which dimmed my mortal sight. 

With uplifted wand, 

And countenance divine. 

She gave command 

Unto that croaking thing. 

To "instantly take wing, 

^N'or dare to longer sing 

That dismal dirge of thine 

Beyond the dominions of thy king.'* 

Then methought the croaking bird 

Gave utterance to 

The one lone word 

"Despair," in such a wearied tone,. 

And ghastly, gurgled groan. 

That I felt the marrow freezing 

Slowly in my bone. 

With eyes aflame, 

And features much the same. 

An elfin shape he took. 



DESPAIR. 97 



With all of Satan's look. 

As 'round and 'round he flew, 

His weird unearthly cries 

Shook the vaulted skies, 

And thrilled my being through. 

Then 'round about me there, 

The angel, with Despair, 

Fought a battle in the air; 

While dismal shafts of doom 

Flew in arrowy keenness 

From the vaulted tomb; 

Till the angel's lance of hope. 

Circling brightly then, 

Told this enemy of men. 

With it he could no longer cope. 

'Twas plain to see. 

The angel's bearing bold. 
Was an emanation of the Deity, 

And of no earthly mold; 
That some power divine 
Had shaped its heraldic shrine, 
For it did gleam 
With resplendent beam, 
And plainly told to me 
That this bird of misery, 



S8 DESPAIR. 



This ominous thing, 

Of dark and dreary wing, 

Of which all the race have heard, 

Croaking the one lone word. 

In such a ghastly strain, 

Even then I felt it burning 

In my brain, 

And the mind in its citadel turning 

From all of human kind. 

'Twas plain, I say. 

That this melancholy fowl, 

This ghastly, green-eyed ghoul. 

This ancient thief of human prey, 

G-loomy grown, and gray. 

Fattening on the sighs. 

Which for ages long 

Have rent the skies. 

Like the burden of a sons:, 

From the many millions 

Bearing their load of grief 

Over the highway of life. 

Longing for relief 

From earth's care and strife. 

Yes, 'twas plain to me, 
That this croaking thing, 



DESPAIR. 99 

Of darkly sable wing, 

From regions, none knoweth where, 

Was no match at battling in the air; 

For the radiant ang-el rare. 

With her silvery lance 

Cut right and left askance, 

Till wounded in the strife. 

The raven then 

Sought refuge for his life, 

]N"ever looking 'round 

Till those dim dominions 

He had found, 

Where the broodings of hate 

Walk hand in hand with fate, 

All dire and desolate; 

In regions where never ray. 

Lights up the darkling way. 

When that croaking thing 

Had taken wing 

And flown away. 

My spirits were so gay. 

That I half believed 

It made me better 

For having grieved. 



100 DESPAIR. 

And ever since, 

Wlaen the raven comes to me, 

That bright angel I do see, 

Chasing the ominous bird 

To shores remote 

Where he may gloat 

With eternal glee. 

And croak his dirge 

Of sickening minstrelsy, 

Through those dim dominions 'round,. 

Where never sound 

Of cheerful note 

Escapes a living throat 

On those shores remote. 

All dark and dreary, 

As the midnight's sable wing, 

Where lives no living thing. 



THE STREAM OF TIME. 



I. 
A wonderful stream 
Is the stream of time; 
"With its deeds of darkness 
Of murder and crime; 
Plowing through every land, 
Through every clime, 
With an onward sweep and swell, 
To realms where fleshless mortals dwell. 

II. 
Eeneath its turbulent wave 
Hath perished many an immortal soul, 
The Lord Omnipotent gave, 
Fashioned for an eternal goal, 
While struggling to get through 
The breakers of life, 
With the harbor full in view. 
With flower and fragrance rife; 
Where the merry song of birds 
And the tuneful breezes swell, 
Wake all the pulsations of life 
That in human bosoms dwell. 



102 THE STEEAM OF TIME. 

III. 

And oh, to go down in sight of this, 
Were all of hell's deep wretchedness! 
With only a shortened space 
Between the perishing swimmer 
And life's immortal landing place. 

IV. 

Yet many an one hath sunk 

Beneath the waves of passion's sweep; 

Who hath madly, darkly drunk 

Life's poisoned chalice 

Low and deep; 

When the harbor bar 

Broke round them glowing. 

Like an illumined star 

Li the fields of ether far 

With heavenly light o'erflowing. 

V. 

While only now and then 
Some swimmer of immortal mould 
Emero'es from the water's hem 
To tread those shores of gold. 
Lying beyond our human ken 
And the strand of eternity's wold. 

VI. 

Thus hath it always been, 
And will be on forever, 



• THE STREAM OF TIME. 103 

With the mighty herds of men 
Struggling in this restless river, 
Amid breakers, shoals and sands. 
And a polluted flow, 
Ebbing from all earth's lands, 
As to eternity we go; 
Darkening black and drear 
The waters that else might flow. 
Eternal, bright and clear. 
Past the beacon lights of cheer. 
Which softly glow and gleam 
Amid celestial atmosphere. 

VII. 

There's a light house on the strand, 

And one on every hand, 

To guide us past the shoals 

With these immortal souls, 

As the river onward rolls; 

And the glorious keepers, too. 

Of fair, celestial hue. 

Waft the lamp of life 

To me and you, 

From inlet, creek and haven too. 

Where all may shelter gain 

Erom the river's turbulent main, 

On the glorious, golden shore. 



104 THE STREAM OF TIME. 

IlTever stained by human gore; 
Fair as the fountain of day, 
Where silvered rills of bliss, 
Murmuring, meander away, 
Through groves of shadiness. 

VIII. 

Oh, the resistless sweep 

Of the river broad and deep 

Hath borne away our brightest joys. 

Like worthless baby toys; 

Hath buried hope's bright queen 

Beneath the shade and sheen 

Of its fathomless roll 

Before the eye of the frenzied soul; 

Poised for eternal flight 

From the outmost plank of time, 

On wings of heavenly shine. 

IX. 

A wonderful stream 

Is the stream of time. 

With its deeds of darkness 

Of murder and crime; 

Flowing through every land, 

Through every clime. 

With an onward sweep and swell, 

To realms where fleshless mortals dwell. 



THE IMMORTAL MASTERS. 



Once they lived 

For life and fame, 
Dying they were buried 

On the world's wide domain; 
But now their sphere, 

Ah, who may name! 

In the forum, in the furrow, 
In the senate, at the loom ; 

One by one they passed away. 
Plodding onward to the tomb. 

In the pulpit, on the bench. 
In poverty's cheerless gloom; 

One by one they passed away. 
Plodding onward to the tomb. 

On the throne and at the stake, 
Surrounded by life's sweet bloom ; 

One by one they passed away, 
Plodding onward to the tomb. 



106 THE IMMOKTAL MASTERS. 

Some in tlie strife of battle's broil^ 
And some we thought too soon ; 

One hy one they passed away, 
Plodding onward to the tomb. 

Some on the ocean's watery waste,. 

Some 'neath the wild festoon; 
One by one they passed away, 

Plodding onward to the tomb. 

Some at the polar line, 

Some by the bursting bomb; 

One by one they passed away. 
Plodding onward to the tomb. 

Some in Afric's jungles dread, 

Some in the cloud-capped balloon ;. 

One by one they passed away. 
Plodding onward to the tomb. 

Some fell in manhood's morn. 

Some at its eve, others at its noon ;: 

One b}^ one they passed away, 
Plodding onward to the tomb. 

Some lines remain to tell. 

Some sculptured urns their doom;. 



THE IMMORTAL MASTERS. 107 



One by one they passed away. 
Plodding onward to the tomb. 



Shall we ever meet them more, 
As the eternal ages speed away, 

Where life, beauty and bloom 

Pass forever onward, from the tomb. 



THE HARP OF A HAND THAT'S STILL. 



That harp of gold, 

I love it much; 
'Twas moved of old 

By a heavenly touch. 

A wanderer of the air, 

With look of love, 
And form divinely fair. 

Came from the courts above. 

And in the golden eventide. 
Like a thrill of life divine. 

Would waft sweet music wide, 
From that harp of mine. 

Over its shining keys 

Would moving fingers stray; 
More beautiful than these 

Made of earthly clay. 

Over its well-tuned strings, 
And sounding bridge of song. 



110 THE HARP OF A HAND THAT'S STILL. 

Would move celestial warblings, 
In the twilight's dusky dawn. 

In that holy spell, 

A slender ring of flame 
Shone round the harp I loved so well, 

And the heavenly player's name. 

She was mortal once on earth. 
And sweetheart true to me; 

But angels coveted her birth 

And took her beyond the crystal sea. 

She left the harp behind. 
As a fond memento dear ; 

To cheer my drooping mind 

While waiting the dawning near. 

And when I lonely seem. 
And longing to be there, 

Will come my angel queen 
And sing to my soul's despair 

Such sweet harmonious strains. 
That passion's stormy roll 

]^o longer frets and pains 
My weary, half-sick soul. 



THE HARP OF A HAND THAT'S STILL. Ill 

Oh, do not strike that harp 

With rude or vulgar hand; 
For 'twould break my heart 

And pain her of the angel band. 

But let it ever stay 

Unmoved by human touch, 
Where she may come and play — 

For I love its music much. 

It thrills my being through, 

Like the glance of an angel's eye. 

With bright celestial hue, 
Cast on sinners from the sky. 

You may this feeble lay deplore ; 

But to me that harp of gold 
Is more than earthly store, 

Or shepherd's finest fold. 

Her dear and gentle hand 

Played divinely gifted lays, 
-As we wended on the strand. 

In those early, sunny days. 

Yes, I love that harp of old. 
And more precious to me 



112 THE HARP OF A HAND THAT'S STILL. 

Than rubies fine, or rarest gold, 
Is each bright and shining key. 

I keep it yet, and always will, 
And fain would I keep it nice; 

In memory of my angel still 

Who walks the fields of paradise. 



CELESTIAL MELODIES OF THE AIR. 



There's music in the air, 
Softly floating everywhere 
Round about the golden stair, 
Leading to a scene so very fair; 
And we sometimes catch a note 
As it round about doth float 
From the land so far remote, 
Like the bulbul's softest tune. 
Poured to the silvery moon 
On some evening fair in June. 

Those singers celestial sing. 
Poised on viewless wing, 
Through winter and through spring, 
And round about us fling 
Hope's bright, golden maze, 
On dark and lowering days. 
As time onward strays. 
To a harbor near at hand. 
Where sing the singing band 
Beckoning us to its strand. 



114 CELESTIAL MELODIES OF THE AIR. 

In tlie golden summer time 

There seems to float and chime 

A sweet celestial rhyme 

Adown the ether hne ; 

Which thrills us like a spell 

Through the woof of magic woven well, 

In and out some sunny dell 

Where fays and fairies dwell; 

Waking a holy flow of soul 

At the celestial music's roll. 

Sometimes there sinks and swells 

The chiming of soft, celestial bells, 

Which cast those holy spells 

From realms where God eternal dwells; 

But we may not know 

The fall sweetness of the flow 

While lingering here below. 

As the sunbeams onward go ; 

For that seraphic monotone 

Comes from a shore unknown. 

And as I've sometimes read 
Books of the living and the dead, 
Would come a saintly tread 
Flitting round my head, 
With a harp celestial, bright. 



CELESTIAL MELODIES OF THE AIR. 115 

In heavenly robes bedight, 
Making music light 
Move the fount of love's delight; 
When life's discords would chill 
Me wandering down its hill. 

I've floated on the river Mle 
Far from human guile, 
In rapt, deep thought the while. 
Seeking some sinless isle. 
Oh, then it sweetly blended 
Where life and strife were ended, 
In that realm from. sin defended. 
As my boat onward wended. 
In the softest, sweetest strain. 
That ever thrilled the human brain. 

And as this isle I neared. 

To the imagination there appeared 

Forms all white and weird. 

Which man hath feared ; 

Singing on the strand 

With a heavenly sister band, 

Under Tan Sein's command, 

With silvered harp and wand, 

Angel's songs which seem 

The lingering traces of a dream. 



116 CELESTIAL MELODIES OF THE AIE. 

There I waited round 

That enchanted island ground, 

Listening to the heavenly sound, 

Till the full, bright moon went down ; 

And the latest line 

Of that song divine, 

Rings in these ears of mine, 

As when I left that sunny clime 

And went wandering through other lands. 

Searching for fairer strands. 



LOVE AND TIME. 



Love and Time go speeding on 
Through, many a sunny clime, 

But they do' not journey long 
Ere they meet the day's decline. 

They haste o'er fragrant meads 
Where flowers in beauty bloom, 

To a way that winding leads 
Onward to the tomb. 

Through the golden morning light, 
They glide with laughter by; 

Heedless of the coming night 
Setting round them in the sky. 

Hope's bright, celestial ray 

Breaks on their vision now, 
And angel forms about them play 

With jeweled crowns upon their brow. 

Amid the dawn of Love's delight 
They see a splendid palace near; 



118 LOVE AND TIME. 

Dazzling to tlie mortal sight, 
And filled with friendly cheer. 

They think that castle grand is theirs, 
Built by the lord of Love's own isle; 

With golden glowing stairs 

And a bright bower beyond the stile. 

But as they near the mansion fair 
To them it shadowy seems, 

Like those forms of air 

We sometimes see in dreams. 

And when they through the postern stray 
A mountain hard to climb. 

All round with copsewood gray. 
Dims the landscape's shine. 

Then Love leaves Time behind 
And speeds throughout the air. 

To h shore man may never find, 
Bright, beautiful and fair. 

Love ran on in such a hurry. 
That Time was doomed to wait 

A little space and worry, 
Complaining of his fate. 



LOVE AND TIME. 119 



Through all the distant round 
Of days and nio^hts so lone:, 

This angel again he never found 
To cheer him with her sons:. 



'No mortal made by the hand above, 

Upon this shoal of time, 
Can keep pace with the god of love 

Where the hill of life's to climb. 



THE POET'S DEPARTED SHADES. 



The poet's departed shades, 
When evening's twihght fades, 
Sometmies waft us here 
Xight from the celestial atmosphere, 
Filling the homes and haunts of men 
With their silent muse aeain. 



'&* 



At such recurring times. 
When the harp of nature chimes, 
•Come glimpses of a better land 
And a more friendly strand. 
Brightly streaming o'er 
The rolling waters drear 
From the poets' words of cheer. 

Those gifted bards sublime 
Have left their foot prints 
''^ On the sands of time," 
That some discouraged swain, 
Soul-sick and drooping 
Mav take heart ao-ain, 
And bravely buffeting life's ills 



122 THE poet's departed shades. 

Upon its angry main; 

Part tlie water's spray 

With more than mortal vigil, 

And gain the gates of day 

Seyond the harhor eternal, 

Where beacon lights supernal 

Gleam mth a golden ray 

All bright and clear, 

Through the soft, celestial atmosphere. 



THE SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT. 



When the shadows of the night 

Come floating 'round my open door, 

I ofttimes think of the departed, 

Those who have gone to the other shore. 

Then the sonnd of rustling robes 

Falls gently on my ear; 
And light comes streaming through the darkness, 

Down from the celestial atmosphere. 

And those I loved so dearly 

Come flitting through the gloom. 
To trim the burning taper 

Dimly burning at the tomb. 

Then the voices of the night 

Mingle with the flow of time. 
In a sort of solemn cadence, 

Like the ghastly mariner's rhyme. 

And the whisperings of Death 
Create a feverish chill, 



124 THE SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT. 

Rising from the meadow 

Over the woodland and the hill. 

Then I seem to catch the sound 
Of some silvery chiming bell, 

Floating through the darkness 

From lands where fleshless mortals dwell. 

And I hear the dashing wave 
Break on the nearing strand; 

As I wander onward 

To the fair, appointed land. 

In my imagination, then, 

I hear the grating keel 
Of Charon's boat, as he helps on board 

His human cargo, with hand of steel. 



DARTS OF DEATH. 



Darts of death are flying 

Thickly all around, 
And everywhere men are trying 

To escape the fatal wound. 

But the heartless archer 
Pulls at the gilded bow, 

And the shining arrows' whirr 
Maketh the life stream flow. 

This shade of grisly shapes 
Hath stained life's pages 

With the blood he daily takes. 
For lo ! these many ages. 

He roams about in glee, 
Marring the form divine 

With his cruel archery, 

Through every land and clime. 

His shining shafts are hurled 
With a determined will. 



126 DARTS OF DEATH. 

And nowhere in tlie world 
Can one avoid his will. 

The fair and gentle form 

He often takes away ; 
Leaving the decrepit and forlorn 

For his coming another day. 

His step is firm and trne, 
His hand is cold and lean ; 

His bow is of gilded hne; 

And he walks with dreadful mein. 

And mourners follow when 
He takes from earth away 

Its true and manly men, 
Like a stolen robber's prey. 

Oh, that this fearful shade 
And phantom of our homes 

Would quit his dread parade, 
And stop these earthly groans ! 

Then, methinks would be 
The dawning day of bliss; 

When no darts would flee 

To change earth's happiness. • 



DARTS OF DEATH. 127 

\Yithout this dreaded shape, 

We might live in endless dawn ; 
And a beautiful kingdom make 

Filled with eternal sono\ 



But our brief span, 

Too short it is, 
While on this earthly strand, 

To attain to this. 

Where such an archer bold 

Culls in daily round 
Immortal fatlings from the fold. 

Like a tiger's dread rebound. 

'No breastplate can shield 

From the darts of death ; 
While in life's fruitful field 

Time with sickle wandereth. 

But happy perchance if we, 
In the long hereafter, may 

Avoid this villain's archery, 

Beyond the darkling river's spray. 

Where no death or mildew blights 
The immortal work of God, 



128 DARTS OF DEATH. " 

Through age's celestial delights, 
On shores where archer never trod. 

Oh, then, we may build 

A city fair to see. 
With all earth's millions filled, 

Through the long eternity. 



A POET OF A GOLDEN AGE. 



A poet of a golden age, 

With a wreath of glory round him, 

Went journeying on pilgrimage 

With a vision all unbounden ; 

Through Afric's sunny land, 

Through sultry Hindoostan, 

Through merry England, 

He roamed about in glee. 

The wonders of the world to see. 

He went to ancient Rome, 
Straight from St. Peter's dome, 
All on the modern line, 
Journeying thence to Palestine ; 
He had seen the Saviour's tomb 
And heard the fig tree's doom. 
And trod upon the strand 
Of ancient Pharaoh's land. 
And journeyed to the Mle 
To see its maidens smile. 



130 A POET OF A GOLDEN AGE. 

He had crossed the ocean free 

And seen the land of liberty; 

He had sailed around the pole, 

And a glimpse of Satan stole, 

When he led the Lord about. 

And the lights of heaven went out 

As he sought to barter away 

The kingdoms of this world 

For the gates of day, 

Upon that mountain gray; 

He had traversed earth and air. 

Seen all that's grand and glorious there; 

For 'twas his desire to be 

A kind of earthly deity. 

The poet was wise. 

As you may surmise. 

He'd looked into laughing eyes, 

And sipped the nectar balm 

Of love's delicious bliss. 

And felt the cold qualm 

Of a heart amiss. 

He knew the wily train 

Of arts to employ 

Which captivate the female brain 

With love's promised joy; 

And ofttimes he found, 



A POET OF A GOLDEN A(JE. 131 

As lie went journeying round, 

Some 2:entle maiden fair 

Who had for him a care. 

But he only played 

With her passion's swell, 

For 'twas his delight 

In love's bower to dwell, 

Sporting in the ray 

Of fairy fancy 

Shed around his stay. 

He knew all the charms 

And false alarms 

Of the female mind; 

And his horn would mnd 

In softest tune to the balmy breeze, 

Making music to the reapers. 

Reaping on the leas. 

He could talk in prose and rhyme. 

And paint an image all divine. 

He could see across the sea 

Of dark mortality 

Up to the gates of gold. 

Where sing in ecstacy 

The angel fold. - 



132 A POET OF A GOLDEN AGE. 

He could look far by 
The throne of Grod on high, 
And there decry 
The mists of eternity 
Floating in the sky. 

There was no copulet 

In prose or rhyme 

Which he didn't learn, 

And its meaning fall discern; 

E^or a mystery long concealed 

Which to the amulet of his mind 

Didn't stand revealed. 

There wasn't a track 
Or prudish quack. 
Or hound of any pack, 
But that he could avoid. 
With his light and knowledge 
Properly employed. 

He could sound a shepherd's horn 
All in the early morn. 
Or tune a lady's reed. 
Or ride a warlike steed 
Over roughest mead. 



A POET OF A GOLDEN AGE. 133 



He could guide a boat 



Like a swan afloat, 
Or spread a sail 
To any gail 
That ever blew 
Througli mist or bail. 

And all bis rb^Tnes 

Were like beavenly mimes, 

Mingling witb creation's cbimes; 

So tender, sweet, 

So faultless, fair and neat. 

Written to any measure 

Or any feet. 

He left no beir; 

But many a maiden fair 

Went wildly wandering 

Tbrougb tbe gloom of dark despair, 

Ou ber condition pondering. 

His name was Militage, 
And be lived in a golden age, 
Wben our eartb was young, 
And daily visited 
By wanderers from tbe sun ; 
And blest Pirio fair, 



134 A POET OF A GOLDEN AGE. 

From worlds of upper air; 

By angels dear, 

With wings all bright and clear, 

Like radiant lights 

Amid celestial atmosphere. 

And when he did die 

There was no pomp or burial ; 

They took him to the sky 

In a shroud imperial ; 

But long since then 

His shade hath strayed and walked with men, 

Casting a fair, bright light 

Through every darkened glen; 

As if heralding the day 

When all earth shall heavenward stray, 

In that great call of time 

When deeds shall be enacted 

Eternal and sublime. 



THE SEA OF GALILEE. 



Once on the sea of Gralilee 
There walked and trod 

A personification of the Deity- 
The true and hvino- God. 



'to 



The winds were rao^ino; hi2:h. 
The waves did leap and roll, 

Darkly dangerous was the sky% 
And angry all nature's soul. 

A fisherman's band, 

In a vessel small, 
Had left the strand 

And met the rising squall. 

As the heaven-born heir 

Did on the waters walk, 
The fishermen in despair 

With naystic speech began to talk. 

" Some spirit of the deep 

Hath risen from its grave, 



136 THE SEA OF GALILEE. 

Witli foul and hideous sweep 
To cast us in the wave. 

"Ye elements lend your aid, 

With strong and steady swell, 
To shield us from the shade 
Of misery's deepest hell." 

*'Be ye of good cheer," 
The holy Saviour said; 

" ' Tis I that's walking here : 
Oh, he ye not afraid." 

The mnds were hushed, 

The hoisterous sea was stilled; 

The fishermen in rapture gushed. 
With heavenly happiness filled. 

They reached the land. 

And none was then afraid; 

The Sa\dour with that fishing band 
To the Grod of heaven prayed. 

Thus, on the sea of Gralilee 
The feet of Jesus trod, 

And led the fishermen free 
To the harbor and to God. 



WE COME AND GO. 



We come and go, 

Like the daisies and the snow, 
Mid silence all profound, 
In one eternal round, 

Here below. 

We come and go. 

On high tide and low, 
Mid hopes and fears. 
Mid the flood of years, 

Thus and so. 

We come and go. 

To reap and sow. 

Mid sunshine and rain, 
Mid pleasure, gift and pain. 

As the wild winds blow. 

We come and go, 

Both friend and foe. 

Whom death calls awaj. 
Impatient of our stay 

Here below. 



138 WE COME AND GO. 

We come and go, 

Like the ebb and flow 
Of the tide of time, 
Bearing to a distant clime 

All our happiness and woe. 

We come and go, 
']^eath the cloud and bow, 
Filled with suspense. 
As from whence to thence 
We may not know. 

We come and go. 

In a ceaseless flow. 

To where the rust and mold 
Wears away the coffin lid of gold. 

Slow, very slow. 

We come and go, 

The lofty and the low. 
Along a hidden line 
Of strange mystery divine, 

In one unbroken flow. 

We come and go. 
Like the rainbow, 

Within the little space 

Alloted to our race 
Here below. 



WE COME AND GO. 139 

We come and go, 

Catching glimpses of a glow, 

As the eternal sheen 

Breaks with brightening beam, 
When life's sun is getting low. 

We come and go, 

Each with his sorrow, ! 

The bondman and the free. 

Amid the deepest mystery. 
Thus and so. 

We come and go 

To shades of death and woe. 

After a little stay, 

When the morn is getting gray. 
And the clouds hang very low. 

We come and go. 
To the judgment, ! 

For sentence just. 

With the blest or curst, 
Eternity will show. 

We come and go 
To where no snow 

Falls on those plains of light. 

Which Charon's boat so white 
Hath touched for ages, ! 



140 WE COME AND GO. 

We come and go, 

Surging to and fro 

With the restless throng, 
Singing poverty's song, 

In the work-house here below. 

We come and go, 
The aged bending low 

At the brink of the grave. 
Affrighted by the wave. 
All billowy bounding, ! 

We come and go. 
Both fast and slow, 

To heaven above, 

Where all is love. 
From a world of sorrow. 

We come and go. 
Where no grasses grow. 
To regions dim, 
There to float and swim, 
Through fire below. 

We come and go. 
While rivers overflow. 
Sailing far and wide 
On a shoreless tide, 
To bliss or woe. 



WE COME AND GO. 141 

We come and go, 
Ah well you know, 

To a mart of fear, 

All dismal, dark and drear. 
Created long ago. 

We come and go 

Like the thrush and roe 

In the early spring. 

When the mavis sing. 
And the earth's aglow. 

We come and go 
Like the crystal snow. 

Without a stain, 

Or thought of pain. 
In the age eternal's flow. 

We come and go 

To sepulchers of woe. 

All stained in crime. 

With no messenger divine. 
To point us heavenward, ! 

We come and go. 

Like the daisies and the snow. 

Mid silence all profound. 

In one eternal round. 
Here below. 



THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN. 



I. 

In a valley of the Hudson, 

Some vague tradition, 

Some chronicle of eld, 

Is rife with legendary lore ; 

With quaint and curious superstitions. 

With weird and wondrous musings, 

Concerning a headless horseman 

Which is nightly seen to go, 

In strange, meteoric haste, 

Cantering up and down 

The meads and meadows there, 

Pursuing some fleeting shadow 

Which ever speeds before, 

Alluring this wondrous horseman 

Through the mists of the nether wold. 

II. 
'Tis said by ancient housewives, 
And good old sires of the Dutcher line, 



144 THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN. 

Whose ambition is to till 

Those sunny nooks and vales 

With the hand of frugal toil, 

That this curious horseman 

Fought in the Revolutionary wars 

'Gainst the red coat Britishers, 

Whose cannonading laid waste 

The blooming vale. 

With desolation and blood; 

That he fought on Rouen's heights. 

Shut off from the valiant free 

By four and forty Britishers, 

'Gainst dire and deadly odds; 

That his silvery sword 

Laid many a valiant low. 

And of all that fought him there, 

One alone survived 

The terrible field of slaughter. 

Whose well-directed cutlass 

Severed from shoulders of manly mold, 

The head that well had graced a king. 

III. 

But this horseman didn't die. 
Changed by some mystic spell, 
He led our fainting troops 



THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN. 145 

Onward to victory's mead, 
Where the golden sunlight 
Of liberty's resplendent dawn 
Drove the blinded Britishers 
From freedom's holy shrine. 

IV. 

And now he nightly goes 

From the silent churchyard 

In quest of a missing head, 

Led on by the sprite of the Britisher 

Who did that hellish deed, 

In the days long gone by, 

When our immortal masters fought 

For the land of liberty. 

V. 

The speed at which he rides 
On recurring times 
Is caused by being belated 
In a fruitless search; 
And he hies him hence. 
To the church-yard still, 
Ere the morning light 
Reveals his shapeless form 
To the rustic, woodland swain. 



146 THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN. 

Ever plodding on awearily 
In round of daily toil. 

VI. 

"When out on such a mission , 

His favorite trjsting place 

Is 'neath the branching tree 

Under which the unfortunate 

Major Andre was captured 

And doomed to death 

By the Continental array, 

For being a spy from the British line. 

VII. 

In short, this sleepy valley. 
For many miles around 
Is rife with floating fancies 
Concerning the spectre horseman. 
And ill betide the hardy swain. 
Who plodding homeward late. 
In the peaceful Sabbath tide. 
Meets this curious phantom 
On his nightly rounds. 
Fright and frenzy then 
Chills the current of his soul, 
Which the finer fancy 



THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN. 147 



Of some loved Helena 
Wakened with her mastic touch. 



VIII. 

The stones that are told 
Of this spectre shade, 
Of his quirks and pranks 
Around that valley fair, 
Mounted like mortal trooper 
On his v^ondrous steed 
So white and clean, 
With flowing mane of gold 
And hoofs of silvered hue, 
Would fill endless books, 
And keep the angel of the sky 
Writing historic tales 
For ages yet to come. 

IX. 

Whatever the horseman is, 
Whatever his name may be, 
The superstition vague 
Increases with the suns. 
In that valley of the Hudson, 
Where ghostly skulls 
And crumbling bones 



148 THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN. 

Fell striking for our flag; 

And this headless horseman, 

By some fatality strange, 

Still courses through the valley 

With m.atchless speed. 

As if a curse lay on his soul. 

Still urging him to find 

The missing appendage; 

That in the cavalcade to come 

He may ride with leaders brave. 

Along the baid^s of the Jordan fair, 

On celestial review. 

In the paradise above. 



ANELBE AND THE ANGEL. 



I. 

One fair, bright eventide, 

As the setting sun was shining, 

I saw a maiden rare 

On the velvet sward reclining; 

Beside a crystal spring 

Where float the swan and pelican 

So light and free of wing ; 

Amid the silvered sheen 

Of the water's silent gleam, 

Which for ages long 

Hath cleansed the pilgrim whole. 

Doing penance for the immortal soul. 

II. 

Close beside her stood 

One of the heavenly brotherhood. 

Who had wandered from the way. 

From the gates of gold. 

From the celestial fold 

And verge of eternal day; 

Earthward on some mission sent 



150 ANELBE AND THE ANGEL. 

From heaven's liigh battlement, 

By just Alla's care, 

In search of a sinfiil tear 

For joy's bright banquet in the air, 

All penitent and clear. 

III. 
While winging too near the shade 
The angel saw the maid, 
Whose curls of fairest hue. 
As he caught a nearer view, 
Love's libation from the angel drew. 

IV. 

Ah, then, her splendid form 

And bewitching face 
Awoke the passion's storm — 

And the angel fell from grace. 
As many mortals fall. 
Loosing God and heaven and all. 

V. 

Pausing one moment to drink 

Of the crystal tide. 
Just to rest and think 

And linger at her side. 
What frenzy of soul 



ANELBE AND THE ANGEL. 161 

Ran through his being whole, 

As one kiss he stole, 

And touched her mortal face 

In love's embrace ; 

And the maiden fair 

Of form and heavenly hue 

Fond of the etherial wanderer grew. 

VI. 

For hours they lingered there 
Without a thought or care 
Of the future any^diere; 
The moments seemed to go, 
Like the heavenly thrill 
]^one but angels know 
On the delectable hill. 

VII. 

The love begun all harmless, 

Ere they were aware 

Went for amiss, 

As Cupid sported 'round them there. 

VIII. 

The thrill of passion's pleasure past. 
They woke from love's embrace at last, 
To see guilt's dark disgrace 



152 ANELBE AND THE ANGEL. 

In every bower and place. 
The angel gloomy grew, 
Thinking of his fall; 
And the sin of the maiden, too, 
Was wormwood gall. 

IX. 

The maiden wicked changed, 
As her soul down hell's pathway ranged, 
Through tangled fern and darkest mead, 
Pausing at no crime or deed. 

X. 

And when the offspring came 

It took not mortal name, 

'No human shape or form; 

Like child of sin and storm, 

' Twas wayward, wicked, wild. 

With body all defiled. 

As if the blight of God 

Had smitten with his avenging rod. 

XI. 

The angel sought some shade 
Mid the depths of Afric's sandy sea, 
Where never mortal maid 
Again he might see; 



ANELBE AND THE ANGEL. 153 

Thinking to atone 

With grief and groan 

For his awful crime 

By penitence sublime ; 

And on some distant day 

Regain what Anelbe took away, 

And be admitted free 

Into the presence of the Deity. 

XII. 

The maiden, sin defiled and stained, 

The throne of God profaned, 

And step by step went down, 

Till hell's deep center she had found; 

In falsehood, crime and sin, 

Her woman's soul plunged in. 

Knew no bound or end; 

Deserted, dying, without a friend, 

Forsaken by her sect, 

And e'en the holy angels 

Did her death bed neglect. 

XIII. 

The ofispring — none ever knew 
What the King of Terror's put him to. 
For he did excel in wickedness 
The acts and deeds of hell; 



154 ANELBE AND THE ANGEL. 

But 'twas sonietimes thought 

He stirred the purgatorial pot, 

As a conipromise of his lot; 

For he scarce lived to be 

The stature of a man in majority 

Ere some infernal shade 

Spirited him away, by the aid 

Of malignant souls, 

To shores where eternity rolls. 

XI Y. 

Oh, maidens fair, 

And angels bright of air. 

Avoid each other mth a care ! 

Till the mystic change 

Adown the grooves of time doth range, 

And you are fitted fair 

For celestial friendships 

Of the air; 

Guarded by the sinless sheen 

Of Alla's light supreme 

From over draughts of bliss 

And distant flights of wickedness. 

As the holy thrill of purity's soul 

Runs on through the ages 

In eternity's goal. 



SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 



Sir Robert Gives had seven wives, 

And they were much like bees in hives. 

One ruhng spirit there supreme 

Asserted herself a royal queen; 

With dark black eyes 

That flashed like lightning in the skies, 

And stern and haughty tread. 

She held his household all in dread, 

Casting consternation 'round, 

At her footfall's angry sound. 

Her flowing robes of gold 

Rustled like wolf among the fold ; 

Her jeweled hand held high command; 

And her sceptered brow 

ISio familiarity would allow; 

Cold, lofty and high. 

She moved people somehow 

By the flash of her eye. 

Her name was Jabelle, 

And she reigned so haughtily. 

That even Sir Robert Grives, 



156 SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 

Ah, yes, even lie ! 

Dreaded to meet lier with his eyes; 

And 'twas like a death (^ doom 

To pass an hour in the room, 

When she summoned him 

In the twilight's dusky dim, 

To vent her venomous spleen, 

With a vicious woman's vim 

Or a daring devil's mien. 

The next in line 

Had a countenance divine. 

And her name was Evangeline. 

The apostle's creed 

In the golden eventide she'd read, 

For the peace of her soul. 

As light 'round the pole. 

Slowly vanished away 

Like the mists of a spray, 

Which so solemnly roll. 

At the close of a Sabbath's day. 

She could repeat the various creeds^ 
And would count her beads. 
Like a monk with solemn face 
In his chancel of grace; 
And in Latin she'd tell 



SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 157 

Of the angels in heaven 

And the demons in hell. 

In sorrow she'd moan 

And mutter "Ave Mary" alone. 

Holy incense she'd hurn, 

And 'round and 'round would turn, 

Crossing herself in fear, 

Fancying she could hear, 

From a shadow standing near, 

The doom of eternity spoken clear. 

Sometimes a light supreme 
Seemed breaking o'er her wildered dream, 
Shining from the eternal strand 
Along the borders of this earthly land- 
She would ofttimes at night 
Till broad daylight, 
Full in Sir Robert's sight, 

00 through her drill, 
And all his passion kill. 

^'Alas," sighed he, 
-^' She's no wife to me ! 

1 cannot embrace her witchery, 
IfTor love such serial thing, 
Flying on mystic wing 

In the May-time of the spring 



158 SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 

Tlirougli tliose regions of dread 
Leagues beyond the valley of the dead. 

" Evangeline is too divine 
For these arms of mine, 
I'll seek a more material form. 
"What though she be shelterless, . 
Stained by earth's storm, 
If she have love for me, 
I'll greet her as some angel form, 
Come to bear me company 
Away from earth and night, 
Into the beams of the paradise light,. 
Beyond the gates of gold. 
Whose pearly portals fold 
In silence there on angels rare 
That never shall grow old." 

Sir Robert's wife Minert 
Was a regular feminine flirty 
The o-randest at the ball 
And the gayest in the hall. 
She wore her ribbons and lace 
With a kind of witching grace,. 
Smiling sweetly on the men, 
Slyly winking now and then^ 
With a kind of killing air ... 



SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 159 

Shooting Cupid's glances everywhere 

With coquettish skill and care. 

Living in an ideal world 

With pleasure's pinions unfurled, 

She tries each wily scheme 

To make things not what they seem, 

Just to fool some fashioned fop 

By the dazzling light of her gleam. 

Simple, soothing and light. 
She wears rings and rubies bright, 
Diamonds, pinks and pearls, 
With a head of sunny curls, 
Singing now and then a glee 
To the fashion fops of frivolity ; 
Flirting with this one and that, 
According to the color of his cravat ; 
Like the waters of the seas, 
Always ill at ease. 
While there's a rippling breeze; 
Liking each new thing best. 
Skipping and waltzing about 
With alternate smile and pout. 
Till nature's worn out. 

'^Alas," said Sir Eobert Gives, 
•' That this egregious thing 



160 SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 

Should be one of my wives. 

She has smiles for other men, 

l^ed, Tim, Joe or Ben, 

It matters not to her 

"Who may be her foppish worshiper, 

For me her heart doth never stir; 

It's much like an icicle's core. 

On the creg or on the moor. 

She's no wife to me 

But a thing of gayety, 

Sporting like the bee. 

With any gaudy thing 

That wafts a tinseled wing 

Through the May-time of the spring.' 

The next was named Luellalorn, 
With look of melancholy born. 
All day she'd sit and sing 
By a silver-crested spring. 
Some sad and tender lay 
To who'd thitherward stray. 
As if she'd sing her life away. 
Her face was very fair. 
And almost hid 
In ringlets of wavy hair. 
Her brow was mild 
As that of liolv child 



SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 161 

Sitting amid the shrine 
Of some chaplet all divine. 

Her speech was bland, 

With mystic meaning 

'None could understand; 

And a lonely look, 

Like an open book, 

Show'd she lived apart 

From the common herd of men, 

With some sorrow at her heart 

Veiled from human ken. 

Ever gnawing at her life. 

E'en though she was Sir Robert's wife. 

"Alas," thought he, 

" She's living not for me, 

But for some saint or deity. 

What may I then 

But mingle with men, 

For her heart is cold, 

And her robes of gold 

Seem to enfold 

Som^e fleshless mould, 

Where no passions may 

Move the fount of love's supernal play. 



162 SIR EGBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 

" Oh, I cannot love 
Such a heartless dove, 
Though her feathers fine 
Be tipped with eternal sunshine; 
I must break away 
From this cruel fate to-day. 
And find one of the earthly line 
To soothe this soul of mine." 

The next was Laomedrone, 

A very odd crone, 

Who was getting old; 

And such a scold 

'None ever knew. 

Save him she was wedded to. 

She scolded at this and that — 

If the meat was too fat, 

Or if 'twas too lean, 

Or when the grass was getting green, 

Or because Victoria's queen. 

If there was a mouse 

About the house, 

Or a cat to kill. 

Her tongue would run on still 

Like earth's great grinding mill. 



SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 168 

She'd scold at the men 

Till half-past ten; 

She'd scold at the bo^^s 

For having toys; 

She'd scold at the girls 

For wearing curls ; 

She'd scold at the maid 

For using yeast; 

And she'd make the clergy afraid^ 

As well as the priest; 

She fussed in the pew, 

And kept the church in a stew, 

The deacons in line 

Would lose their grace divine 

When she cast upon them her look benign. 

In short, she was a jade, 

And made Sir Eobert afraid. 

There was gloom within 

And gloom without, 
And a mighty din 

When she let her tongue run out. 

Sir Eobert then 
Bethought himself . 
The most accurst of men. 
He couldn't speak, 



164 SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 

He didn't try, 

But up would leap 

To meet that fiendish eye, 

Only to be quelled. 

Like those of eld, 

By the magician's art 

Strangely thrilling through the heart. 

^^Alas," thought he, 
^' What did I see 

In that female fiend. 

While in love's bower I dreamed 

That witching dream, 

That I could wed 

And take her to my bed ! 

There must have been 

Some mischief in my head." 

The next was Lady Gale, 

A regular tell-tale. 

She knew the ups and downs 

Of all the lanes and rounds; 

And could follow a track 

Like a trained pack 

Of Saint Hubert's hounds. 

She would rather meet 

A neighbor in the street 



SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 165 

And spin a yarn, 

Than knit socks of yarn. 

Slie knew the news, 

And the kind of shoes 

Each living mortal wore 

For many miles around her door; 

She knew the styles 

And heau-catching smiles 

That Mrs. Pink and Purdy wore ; 

For once she saw a man 

With a lady's fan 

Come out of the back room door. 

She knew Mr. Pert and Prandle, 

And when once a breeze of scandle 

Rose, she knew full well 

The art to make it swell 

And keep the thing agoing, 

For she was very knowing. 

In short she was versed 

In all the accurst 

Rumors that will float 

Round a village remote. 

Where the women and the men, 

Talk and talk back again. 

For want of better work to do ; 



166 SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 

Lounging the lazv season tlirougli, 
As the sunbeams onward go 
"With bright, refulgent flow, 
Gilding the hills of God 
With gold and amber rod, 
Like some angelic spell 
Thrown round Sailen's citadel. 



^'Alas," Sir Robert thought, 

^' Mine is a lively lot, 
Living in this Eden fair, 
'I^eath the glance of a devil's stare 
For what may happiness be 
When you pluck marital fruit 
From a gnarled and twisted tree. 

^Tll put her away. 
For she'd make trouble for God 
On the judgment day, 
With her tongue and her nod; 
And should the devil get her, 
There'll be a stir 
Li his majesty's domain 
When her tongue's let loose again. 
After that distant sweep 
Across the river deep. 
Where parting is no paio." 



SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 167 

■ Tlie last ill line 

Was named Avergevine, 

And to jealousy did incline. 

If Sir Robert tipped his liat 

To girl or brat, 

She thought there was 

Something strange in that; 

She would sit and cry 

If the glance of his eye 

Fell round the room, 

Or a cheek of bloom 

Changed color because 

She herself broke etiquette's laws, 

In gazing to see 

If that hasty glance. 

By any mischance. 

Moved the fount of female witchery. 

' Twas the same in Rome 
And the same at home. 
Whether in a crowd 
Or left alone ; 
Her jealous heart 
Trains of thought would start 
When the braggart's vim 
Brought a smile from him. 
Or the strangest story told. 



168 SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 

Caused Sir Robert to laugh 

And his sides to hold, 

Till the shining gold 

Would shimmer and gleam, 

Like shadow's sheen, 

Softly flitting by, 

Borne on Peri's wings 

Athwart the sky ; 

For the deep well of laughter 

Is located on high, 

And in that bright realm 

It never runs dry. 

'' Strange," said he, 

" There is no peace for me 

In all this lady line; 

l!^ot one there is 

Who is wife of mine. 

That sacred name 

Wakes a kindred flame. 

Which always should burn on 

Like daylight after dawn. 

"But the cold eclipse 
Of a woman's lips 
Chills the flo^v 
Of the passion's swell, 



SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 169 

Like darts of death 
Thrown at love's citadel. 

*^ Oh, the willful frown 
Of a thing that wears a gown 
"Will chase from me 
The last bright smile of courtesy ; 
And all the golden hue, 
Without love's return. 
Can wake no sympathy 
"Where it is due ; 
This much I discern." 

Gentle friend, 

Wherever you wend, 

There is a line 

I'd have you learn 

From the dial plate of time, 

As 'round and 'round we run : 

'No wife can be 

True wife to you or me 

Where there's no heaven-born sympathy; 

But where a mutual flow 

Of true friendship, 

From two souls doth go 

At the touching of the lip. 



170 SIR ROBERT GIVES HAD SEVEN WIVES. 

There spirits meet and sip 

The nectar dew 

From love's golden chalice 

Deeply dipped in the fount of eternal hue. 

They may pass away 
From out this mortal strife, 
But heyond the resurrection day 
The true born man and wife 
"Will meet to love, 
For love is life. 
And God is love. 



MILDRED. 



By the ancients it is told 

How the love god Eros walked and strolled 

Along the river Mle, 
Entranced with the witchery 

Of the maiden Mildred's heavenly smile. 

' Twas in the autumn's golden prime, 

When the evening hells were ringing out their chime, 

And light from the lamps of heaven all 
Resplendent on their pathway 

Did float and fall. 

When an angel hand hedight, 
With rohes and palms of light, 

Assembled amid the zephyrs'there. 
To witness the wedding 

Of this enamored pair. 

While Cupid with his how 
Kept running to and fro. 



172 MILDRED. 

Shooting silvered arrows keen, 
In mere wantonness of joy, 
At the love god and his qneen. 

Then the celestial company, 
Chanting loudly, chanting lowly, 

With heavenly eye intent, 
"Went upward winging 

Into the blue element. 

Eros and the maid 

Took it as an omen ill of evil aid, 

That Cupid should play such pranks, 
While they stood plighted 

On the river's sacred banks. 

Said the maiden Mildred then, 
" Thou god of angels and of men, 

Though I worship thee. 
This surely doth portend 

Our marriage would be merged in misery. 

" Oh, I fear that I 
Should meet the displeasure of the sky; 

And that undying as thou art 
The dews of death 

Would settle 'round thy heart. 



MILDRED. 173 

" 'Tis better that you go 
To lands of light where never winds doth blow; 

But I beg of thou 
One heavenly kiss at parting, 

To cool the fever in my brow." 

The god amazed 

In silence on her gazed, 

And simply said. 
After the parting kiss 

On her forehead had been laid : 

" My Mildred, dear, adieu. 
rU wait on the river's farther strand for you, 

And have the boatman pale. 
When thou art coming, 
Signal on the gale. 

"I'll take you by the hand. 
And our wedding shall be witnessed by the angel band; 

I'll lead you on the streets of gold 
To a mansion ready made. 
That time shall never mould. 

"And throughout the days 
Of duration's endless maze, 
Our love on earth begun 



174 MIL DEED. 

Shall cliangeless be 

As the brightness of the sun." 

He waived adieu, 

And in the parting blue, 

Oh, rapturous sight ! 
Mildred saw her lover 

Lost in supernal light. 

Long she standing gazed. 
With eye upraised. 

Entranced at the heavenly sound 
Which came floating 

Like a song of glory 'round. 

The chorus died away. 

And Mildred went her homeward way ; 

But on the river's strand 
The fishermen ofttimes 

See her stand. 

With hand upraised. 

As if in silence still she gazed 

Lito the ether blue. 
For some lost image 

To fall upon her view. 



TWO ANGELS. 



I. 

In pensive mood, 
Through a lighted wood, 
In meditation bent. 
Following a golden butterfly, 
I musing went; 

When the night was setting in. 
And the moon and stars 
Like crystal bars 
Lit up the firmament. 

II. 
I followed my little guide,. 
Thither I knew not where. 
Like a golden glory fair, 
]^ear a rugged mountain wild and wide. 
Along a mute brookside. 
Meandering silently 
Onward to an illumined sea, 
Whose banks shown bright 
With rarest light, 



176 TWO ANGELS. 

"While doves and pelicans 
Sported there in glee. 

III. 
Along its silver'd shore, 
I followed my guide once more. 
Through the verdant hloom 
Of blushing flowers, 
"Whose sweet perfume 
Turns to heaven 
This world of ours. 

IV. 

In fairest rank. 

On either bank. 

Palm trees stood in line, 

"Whose leafy shade 

And waving made 

A canopy divine; 

Where love might stray 

In listless mood. 

Dreaming life away 

With the heavenly sisterhood. 

V. 

The celestial asphodels 
And heathery hairbells 



TWO ANGELS. 177 



]N"odded in the breeze ; 
The lark and linnet too, 
E^ested in the trees, 
Undisturbed by hawk or hound, 
In the midst of that sweet Eden 
Which my little guide had found. 

VI. 

Resting on a rose's stem, 

It bade me drink 

From the brimming brink, 

By silent sign 

Like messenger divine. 

Plain as word of men. 

VII. 

the water free 
Gave new life to me. 
While I did lave 
My face and hands 
In its sa;Cred wave. 

VIII. 

Then I knew 

Some shape of heavenly hue. 

Just out of the boundless blue. 

Must linger there 

Within that Eden fair. 



178 TWO ANGELS. 

IX. 

Then I seen, 
fair, celestial sight! 
By the radiant light 
Of a heavenly gleam. 
Two lovely angels that 
On a structure rude 
Under a palm tree sat. 
Between the lake and wood. 



X. 



One was gentle, mild, 

With beauty's charms, undefiled, 

Whose golden hair 

And form so fair 

Spoke her of the gentle sect 

Heavenly and circumspect. 

XI. 

The other kind 
Had a sterner mind, 
Moved less by danger, 
Less by love ; 
But more at the fall 
From friendship's all 
Of a fainting dove. 



TWO ANGELS. 179 



XII. 

He spoke to her 
Like a worshiper 
From yonder sky 
With a celestial light 
Kindling in his eye. 

XIII. 

They sung a strain 
That woke a flame 
Of love within my soul, 
Which never will burn dim 
As the ages flitting swim 
Through eternity's goal. 

XIV. 

The raptures of that line, 
The music all divine. 
The seraphic spell. 
Into my soul's center fell. 

XV. 

The chorus through. 
The angels flew 
Straight into heaven 
Beyond my view. 
Hand in hand they went, 



180 TWO ANGELS. 

With faces iipM^ard bent, 
In a maze of ligtit, 
On which I stood and gazed 
Through half the night. 

XVI. 

Whereat some magic seemed 
To change the garden 
Where I dreamed 
Into a wilderness dim, 
Whose flowerets faded 
'Round the water's rim; 
And the butterfly bright 
Changed his wings of light 
To an insect grim, 
Which did my soul afiright. 
And a darksome shade 
Strode over the glade, 
Casting a chill 
On lake and hill. 
Like the mists 
Of a freezing rill. 

XVII. 

Whereat he spoke 

In gruffest voice to me. 

As if something in his throat 



TWO ANGELS. 181 



Was chuckling there to see 

A human shape, 

On which to gloat eternally : 

XVIII. 

" 'Tis well I found the way. 
Running so near to heaven 
And yet astray; 
But let it pass, 
Ere this day sever, 
My friends and me 
Have a feast to hold 
On thy body cold, 
Wasting to mold 
When the last bell's tolled." 

XIX. 

He said no more, 
But a cave on shore 
Swallowed him then 
From my affrighted ken. 
While I seemed to feel 
The prod of a pointed steel. 
Piercing with pain 
My very brain. 
In the dizzy gloom 
A fainting swoon 



182 TWO ANGELS. 

Felled me to the earth, 
Amid the tyrant's mirth. 
As his voice rang through the sky : 
'' Thus and thus 
Shall every mortal die." 



ANNALEE. 



One lovely night in June, 

When nature's harp was all atune, 

I wandered o'er a distant glade, 

Arm in arm with a beauteous maid, 

Methought so sinless and so fair, 

I^aught on earth with her could compare. 

She seemed a seraph, sent 

From heaven's high battlement, 

To be my earthly guide, 

O'er this waste so wild and wide. 

Hand in hand we wandered on 
O'er the fragrant, flowery lawn. 
Gentle zephyrs cooling came. 
Stirring thoughts within my brain — 
Thoughts of bliss and heaven, to be 
Passed in pleasure with my darling Annalee ; 
Sheltered on some fairy shore, 
Where summer blooms forevermore; 
Where life's wild tumult and care, 
Ke'er enters that sinless shelter fair. 



184 ANNALEE. 

To mar tlie blooming brow of bloom 

With shades of sorrow, 

Darker than the tomb, 

With drapery dismal as death weaves 

Around the reaper's falling sheaves ; 

Where healing springs so clear, 

Purify the crystal atmosphere; 

Where the silver-headed swain 

Gets his earthly gain 

By grazing flocks that feed 

On the heather and the mead; 

And all the rustic neighbors are 

Loving in my fancy's fairy island far. 



Her tender accents mild and sweet, 

My listening ear did greet. 

As we tripped adown the mountain 

To a cool and shady fountain, 

JSTear whose silvery rilled expanse 

We passed the morning moments of existence. 

Seated on a rustic structure near. 

We seemed the cupids all to hear 

Lisping notes so sweet in rhyme, 

That all the moving leaves did chime 

A serenade to my queen so fair. 

Throughout the musical murmuring air. 



ANNALEE. 185 

The moonbeam's glowing light 
Cast a halo round our dreamy sight, 
Tingeing with a golden foliage new 
All nature's veiled and varied hue, 
Lighting like celestial beam 
Our lifetime's morning scene; 
Rearing crystal castles bright, 
Where all the day and night 
Of time, no shadow would stalk 
Across our favorite winding walk. 
To cast a chill within our cottage door 
On my fancy's fairy island shore. 

Her loving face upturned to mine 

Seemed then to be all but divine. 

As I gazed beyond control 

Down through the windows of her soul; 

Within that leaiy shade 

And peaceful colonnade, 

Beyond earth's care and dole. 

Wrapt in meditative thought. 

What strange emotions in m_e wrought. 

As we pledged our lives away, 

With words I cannot say; 

As we bound our souls to be 

Each other's through all eternity. 



186 ANNALEE. 

Then we broke a piece of gold, 

As in the far-off days of old, 

For a simple token to recall 

The moment we gave away our all; 

And with a silken ribbon blue 

She hung it on her neck and bosom too^ 

And bade me keep the other part 

Till on life's eternal mart 

We should meet full in sight 

Of the celestial city's light; 

There in rapture's sweetest sway 

To pass love's never-ending day. 

We left the fountain and the hill. 
Homeward wending near a silvery rill^ 
Whose mingling murmurs came. 
Ever ladened with her name, 
On the dream-like breezes swell 
Throughout that peaceful dell. 
To me a blissful Eden fair, 
For the angel of my life was there. 

We parted at the gate 
Of her father's house of state, 
With hopes beaming bright. 
With hearts all life and light; 



ANNALEE. 187 

Witli a golden, glorious day 

Dawning just beyond the horizon's gray. 

But alas ! three suns had hardly sped 
When my darling Annalee was dead. 
Her saintly soul had gone 
From darkness up to dawn, 
Away amid the starry spheres, 
There to stay through endless years. 

The cruel archer with his bow 

Had taken her over the wave of woe. 

Away from the fountain and the hill, 

Away from the silvery rippling rill, 

Away from this heart of mine; 

Where I might not twine. 

One garland fair 

About her angel forehead there. 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE. 



Once a wight of the olden time, 

Who lived in a sunny clime, 

As some of the poets tell. 

Took a midnight trip to hell, 

In hopes to find his missing wife. 

The comfort and the scourge of all hisjife. 

Her name was Eurydice, 

She had been married twice; 

His was Orpheus, 

And not much behind her in a fass. 

Philosophizing there 

Where they were wed — 
This ill-united pair — 

Thus to himself he said : 

" She must be in the land 
Bordering on the devil's strand, 
For the Lord of earth and air 
Would'nt have her there. 
Knowing of her tongue 



190 OKPHEUS AND EURYDICE. 

Which in this ear hath rung, 
Till there is'nt left 
The vestige of a drum. 
But I must find this mate, 
That she may one day prate 
Over my hody lying in state. 
When the spirit's gone 
To those mansions of glory 
Building in the land of song." 

He downward wends his way, 
Journeying wondrous gay, 
Like a lark at morn 
Singing all the way. 

The reason woald'st thou know, 
She was'nt at his elbow, 
]^or yet beside him — 
Or the poets have belied him. 

Through those vistas green. 

Where shades and shadows intervene, 

As he passed along, 

There danced a merry throng 

To the music of his song ; 

As on Afric's sunny plains 

I've heard immortal fiddler's strains 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE. 191 

Captivate the wondering swains, 
And make them circling go 
Like dudes and dandies in a row. 

To Pluto's court he came. 
Where peering through the flame, 
Ten thousand horrid eyes 
Lit up the lambent skies; 
But gathering up his cheer 
He faltered forth in fear, 
"Is my lost wife here?" 

The listening imps around 

Laughed with mimic sound, 

At the question odd and queer, 
"Is my lost wife here; " 

Up spoke the leader of them all : 
"Hearken to the words that fall; 

This must a mortal madman he; 

Brother fiends we're happier far than he : 

For who'd torment his eye. 

In these regions deep. 

With one tearful sigh 

Such wife to keep." 

But mournful still. 
With supplicating will. 



192 ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE, 

His suit he urges well, 

Like the sounding knell 

Of a faneral bell, 

When some lost soul 

Goes speeding to its goal, 

Over the Stygian tide. 

Into the realm of mystery wide. 

He soothes with wily art 
The monarch's hardened heart. 
And lulls his piercing pain. 
And gets his lost wife back again. 

" Speak no further word," 

Grrim Pluto cries, 
'^ Thy prayer is heard — 

On this condition take thy prize : 

Turn not thine eyes 

On her form beside thee there; 

For this I vow. 

The instant thou 

My parting word denies. 

She vanishes in mid air." 

Up the strange ascent, 
Orpheus as ordered 
Foremost went; 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICB. 193 

Though when two mortals 

Leave their sphere, 

And downward steer, 

The man, as most befitting, 

Follows in the rear. 

As up and on they sped. 

The foolish fool turned 'round his head; 

That instant in mid air, 

His Eurydice was fled. 

If it was by 

Some angel of the sky. 

All purposely designed, 

He hath much cause 

To be resigned; 

Or if by chance the spell, 

'No mortal tongue may tell 

The good fortune 

That Orpheus there befell. 

'Tis true he journeyd home 
The remaining way alone, 
And missed his Eurydice 
Some once or twice. 
But then he lived in peace, 
Tending his flocks and geese, 
Reading the word divine 



194 ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE. 

Under the spreading leaves 
Of liis trellised vine, 
Embowered in light the while, 
Thrown from the glowing portals 
Of the far-oiF, heavenlj^ isle, 
Till his latest snn went down, 
Without one fret or frown 
From his missing Eurydice 
To thrill or chill 
His heart like ice. 



ST. PETER AT THE GATE. 



A traveler on the heavenly highway, 
Journeying near the gate of gold, 
Thus accosted St. Peter one day 
With look so very bold : 
^' Why keepest thou this gate 
Encompassed ^round so close, 
Where many wanderers wait 
To gain the heavenly land perforce?" 

St. Peter made reply 
In mild, submissive mood. 
Echoed through the sky 
By the heavenly sisterhood : 
*'My task hath been 
These centuries old 
To shut out sinful men 
Prom the shepherd's fold. 
This golden gate 
I instant close, 
Py the decrees of fate. 



196 ST. PETER AT THE GATE. 

On just Alla's foes 

"Who wander this way late." 

Thus the celestial traveler again 
^'I lost my way, and went astray 
On some miry plain, 
Which caused delay; 
But then I ran 
With all my speed 
O'er stock and stone. 
Past many a man 
On heathery mead, 
Pausing only to read. 
In the twilight fine. 
Each word and line 
Of the apostles' creed. 
With vanishing haste. 
Like a winged steed, 
I skimmed the waste; 
Seeking to he 
A timely guest 
In heaven's festivity. 
With the good and hlest. 
Then let me in, 
St. Peter, do ! 
It would he sin 



ST. PETER AT THE GATE. 197 

To shut from me 

That glimpse of glorj; 

For I've been told 

The angel's story 

About those streets of gold, 

And that heavenly land, 

With mountains grand 

And hoary. I come alone. 

It would be sin 

To spurn me from the throne. 

" The night is cold and chill, 
My limbs are stiff with age; 
I've clambered up life's hill 
Without a staff or page; 
Then let one golden ray of glory 
Break gently through 
On this pilgrim old and hoary, 
Oh, St. Peter, do!" 

The crystal bar 
All motionless remained. 
And a stillness far 
Throughout heaven reigned — 
Till St. Peter made reply: 
" 'Tis not thine to behold 
The glories of the sky. 



198 ST. PETEK AT THE GATE. 

Go wander away 
From the gate of gold, 
And paths where angels stray; 
' Tis the fates' decree. 
Mountain barriers lie 
Between heaven and thee, 
Which thou mayest not climb, 
To the land of bliss sublime." 

He turned him away 
From the gate of gold. 
And took the lonely way 
Down to the nether wold. 
Leading where so many fall. 
Missing God, and heaven, and all. 



THE LAND OF LOVE. 



They tell of a land of love, 

All radiant and bright above, 

Where shining seraph wings 

Keep time to the rhyme its people sings; 

Chanting in angelic lays 

Holy Alla's endless praise. 

They tell of a city of bliss, 

Located far from this, 

Where no discordant v^^ord 

Ever vet was heard 

Amid' that celestial air 

Spoken by the shining fair. 

Who ever and ever flit 

'Round where the gods in grandeur sit, 

Waving wreaths of beauteous evergreen, 

Pluck' d from some sylvan scene 

Within Eden's olive shades 

By sinless, sainted maids. 

They tell of golden gleaming^streets 
Where earth and heaven meets ; 



200 THE LAND OF LOVE. 

Where glowing towers of light 
Fall on the celestial wanderer's sight; 
Where limpid streams are flowing, 
Ever from Alla's throne going, 
Carrying mellow mercy on their tide; 
Throughout the land they glide, 
Meandering thitherward away 
From the fount of eternal day. 

They tell of a fabled spring, 
'Near which little cherubs sing 
^N'otes of soul-subduing bliss. 
All blending most harmonious; 
Poured from purity's fount, 
Higher and higher they mount, 
Till the happy, angelic throng 
Catch the soul of song 
And echo the chorus loud and long. 

They tell of a lucid lake 
Where all admitted souls take 
Their first, fond draught of joy. 
Deep they drink without alloy 
Of that eternal pool — 
Soul-cleansing and cool — 
Upon whose banks there be 
Amber bowls of purity, 



THE LAND OF LOVE. 201 

Sparkling like the gleam 

Of bright jewels beneath the stream. 

They tell of golden-fruited trees, 

Which sway in heaven's ambrosial breeze, 

Alluring the gods of bliss to wait; 

Where beauteous angels congregate 

To chant their endless lay 

With those heavenly choristers 

That thitherward stray. 

They tell of a golden gate, 
^vTear which loving angels wait 
To welcome in with holy song, 
And praises loud and long. 
Those who kept the shining wa}^ 
Upward to the fount of day. 

They tell of a winding stair 

Leading to a scene so fair 

That naught on earth can be 

Found of sufficient purity 

To make the steps, o'er which ever go 

Infant feet from this world of woe. 

They tell of a distant place 
Where loving angels chase 



202 THE LAND OF LOVE. 

Away those wicked spirits, 
Whose deathly touch blights 
The sinless soul's angelic hue 
Darkly through and through. 

They tell of an Eden land 
Where this human band 
Will be crowned all beautiful, 
For being ever dutiful ; 
Where sorrow may not come 
When the heavenly anthem's begun. 
And no beggar, begging bread, 
On that golden floor will tread 
To jar the chords of bliss. 
Tuned most harmonious ; 
Where day and night will be, 
Beyond that crystal sea. 
Changeless to all eternity. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



LIFERS BATTLES. 



Do you wish to gain 

The battles of your hfe ? 

Then press boldly onward 
To its deadliest strife. 

Should they be fierce and bloody, 
Fight them with a vim ; 

Pressing onward to victory: 
For valiantry will win. 

Bravely battling with courage, 
Life's barriers will fall; 

And you'll conquer in the fight, 
Be the foeman great or small. 

Let the monitor within 

Ever guide you in the fray; 

With duty as your countersign 
You'll never go astray. 

With hope upon your helmet 
And right upon your side. 



206 life's battles. 

You may marcli to ^dctory, 
Casting consternation wide. 

Onward strive and upward; 

Be a leader in the van, 
Remember fire proves tlie metals 

As trials do the man. 

Then buckle on your armor 
And grasp the cutlass keen, 

Blinding your enemy 

With the shimmer of its sheen. 

Let no phantom daunt you, 
And never failure fear; 

Striking boldly for the prize 

Which glimmers bright and near. 

Should you faintness feel 
From exchanging blows, 

Remember that courage 

Will daunt the bravest foes ; 

That manhood mailed in right. 
With the banner of God unfurled, 

Will conquer in the strife. 
In the face of all the world. 



BRAVE-BORN SOULS. 207 

Then strike for tlie victory, 

For the crowning act of life 
Is to walk triumphantly 

From the world's battle and strife, 

Upward to creation's mead, 

Where sunlight eternal shines 
Eifalgent and resplendently. 

Along destiny's distant lines. 



BRAVE-BORN SOULS. 



"Fortune favors the brave," 
"While cowards sit sulking 
On the stones of their grave; 

Victory's banner may gleam. 
While life's drowsy dreamers 

Go sailing down its stream. 

The eagle of happiness screams, 
Bathed in the sunlight 
Of visions and dreams; 

While the night owl of gloom 
Mopes moodily round 

Some old, ivied ruin of the tomb. 



208 BRAYE-BORN SOULS. 

Tlie shout of a soul that's free 



Drinking draughts of bliss 
From the fount of purity, 

Will move the angel band 
More than the chorus 

Of ten thousand drones of the land. 

He who bridges some Alpine crest 
With mind or matter's motion, 
Making an escape way for the oppressed, 
Over time's extended ocean. 
Doth more for the race of man 
Than the rulers of Cuba or Japan. 

He who points to Calvary's height 
When the glow is darkest, 
May cheer the fainting wight 

More than the sunshine saint 
Who, on the brink of perils point, 

Will shrink and faint. 

Then strike a blow 
That will somewhere tell 
On friend or foe, 

Rather than stand 
Guide-boards of folly 

In this favored land. 



THERE IS NO UNBELIEF. 209 

For battles must be fought 

And victories must be won; 

And in the book of life we're taught 

That the hidden talent gave 
'No passport to its owner, 

Who had a soul to save. 

It were better to be 
Far fathoms deep 
Under the earth and sea, 

Than loiter about in the way 
Of the immortal masters, 

Marching to the judgment day. 



THERE IS NO UNBELIEF. 



There is no unbelief: 
Whoever plants a seed 

Beneath the sod. 
On the heather or the mead. 

Trusts in God; 
E'en though he be of sinners chief, 
' Tis plain he hath belief. 

There is no unbelief: 

Whoever says, when clouds obscure the sky: 



210 THERE IS NO UNBELIEF. 

"Be patient, thou, 
'Twill brighten by and by!" 

God's mercy doth avow; 
E'en though he be of sinners chief, 
' Tis plain he hath belief. 

There is no unbelief: 

Whoever sees, neath winter's snow, 

The working of a power 
Which makes the daisy grow, 

Owns Grod every hour; 
E'en though he be of sinners chief, 
' Tis plain he hath belief. 

There is no unbelief: 
Whoever lieth down to sleep 

Upon the land or billow, 
Trusteth God to safely keep 

His head on nature's pillow; 
E'en though he be of sinners chief, 
' Tis plain he hath belief. 

There is no unbelief: 

Whoever speaks of "the coming morn," 

Or "the vast unknown," 
Hath been heavenly born — 

For these are the Lord's alone ; 



THERE IS NO UNBELIEF. 211 

E'en though he be of sinners chief, 
' Tis plain he hath belief 

There is no unbelief: 
Whoever looks on death 

When the eyelids close, 
And keepeth still his breath, 

God's kindness knows; 
E'en though he be of sinners chief, 
' Tis plain he hath belief. 

There is no unbelief: 

At morn when man awakes, 

A glimpse of Grod's glory 
His soul unconsciously takes 

From mountains old and hoary; 
E'en though he be of sinners chief, 
' Tis plain he hath belief. 

There is no unbelief: 
Whoever dreams of life. 

In another land 
Beyond this mortal strife, 

Obeyeth God's command; 
E'en though he be of sinners chief, 
' Tis plain he hath belief. 



212 HOW A LARK CHEERED A DROOPING SOUL. 



HOW A LARK CHEERED A DROOPING SOUL 



The sun was darkly hid, 

One dull i^ovember day; 
The snow fell fast and cold, 

As a traveler strayed from home away. 

Forced to face the storm 

That his children might be fed; 

He wandered on in gloomy mood. 
Like one who walks among the dead. 

Tired, soul-sick, and aweary 

Of that which men call life. 
So he held this mental conflict, 

"Would he use the suicidal knife?" 

" What cheer for me hath earth, 

Toiling on starvation pay. 
With loved ones ragged and poor? 

I'll end this life to-day." 

Just then he heard the merry tune 

Of a lark upon a bough. 
Caroled joyful in the storm, 

Which lit his troubled brow. 



HOW A LARK CHEERED A DROOPING SOUL. 213 

The little lark sang gaily on, 

Though blown with winds so rude ; 

And this was the burden of his song : 
''Be cheerfal, God is good." 

In silence then the traveler stood, 

Listening the song to hear; 
It thrilled his being through, 

And filled his soul with cheer. 

He fell upon his knees 

And thanked the God of heaven there; 
And never before did the mnds 

Bear upward such a prayer. 

He rose and hailed the little songstress 

As an omen bright of hope, 
For cheering his drooping heart 

To go into the world with men to cope. 

The God of heaven favored him 

With stores of goodly grain ; 
His children were well fed. 

And sheltered from the rain. 

Oh, ye drooping souls, 
Be cheered by the song of birds ! 



214 FLAKES OF SNOW. 

Eor their warbled music 
Is set to heavenly words. 

The hand that guides the storm 

Sheltered the little bird from death; 

Then toil thou bravely on, 

And praise Him with thy latest breath. 



FLAKES OF SNOW. 



Flakes of snow, flakes of snow, 

Falling on the world below, 

Pure, white, spotless, free. 

From the shrine of divinity; 

Soft as an angel's touch, 

"White as the forms we worship much, 

Who have climbed the golden stair 

And gone to a land so very fair, 

* 

From the snow, from the snow. 

Flakes of snow, flakes of snow! 
Oh, whither dost thou go. 
When the gentle summer rain 
Bids the back to heaven again ? 
And what touch of angel hands 



FLAKES OF SNOW. 215 

Forms thee new for other lands, 
With thy coat of spotless white, 
Like the radiance of an eternal light, 
Breaking on the snow, on the snow? 

Flakes of snow, flakes of snow, 

Fair as the tinted rainbow. 

Falling near and far 

From nature's fairy car, 

Drawn by steeds of light 

Though the dome of duration bright, 

Moved at I^eptune's will 

With the speed of a lightening thrill, 

Above the snow, above the snow. 

Flakes of snow, flakes of snow, 

Where you fall no grass doth grow, 

^o warbling bird doth tune 

Its silvery cadence to the moon. 

King Frost triumphant reigns, 

Bound in winter's icy chains, 

Like the shadow of a fate. 

Mirrored on the tomb where all must wait 

'^eath the snow, 'neath the snow* 

Flakes of snow, flakes of snow, 
Borne on eternity's silent flow, 



216 THE okderly's ride. 



Ye sadly call to mind 

Tlie faces I've left behind, 

The severed ties and troubled fears 

Buried 'neath the weight of years, 

For a deep, brooding silence reigns. 

When ye fleck with white the plains 

Over with snow, over with snow. 

Elakes of snow, flakes of snow, 

When my work is done below. 

May I sink to slumber 

With God's chosen number. 

Pure as the snowy plain ; 

And when Grabriel's bugle strain 

Calls buried millions to the light. 

Oh, may I wear a vesture just as white 

As the snow, as the snow. 



THE ORDERLY'S RIDE. 



Thundering o'er the highway. 
Clattering down the ridge, 

Rode in haste a rider 

Over the burning bridge 

Eired by rebel brands. 



THE orderly's RIDE. 217 

Above the torrent's flow, 



? 



Rolling onward to the ocean, 
With murmur soft and low. 

The steed was flecked with foam, 

He staggered and gasped for breath, 
As he bore his rider from the foe 

Onward to the marl of death; 
In hard and hot pursuit 

^ine angrj rebels rode, 
' Twere death to flee, and death to stand; 

On every hand bright bayonets glowed. 

Along the bridge they sped, 

' Midst flame and smoke. 
When from the friendly shore 

A shout of "courage" broke. 
But see ! the bridge is swaying. 

The loosened timbers fall; 
And headlong into the waters 

Plunge the horse and rider all. 

The faithfal steed was killed. 

The gallant rider drowned 
'J^eath the mighty debris, 

Which cracked like an earthquake's sound. 
Meanwhile the battle rolled 



218 THE orderly's ride. 

Throughout that dreadful day, 
But victory came in the eventide 
Where the dead and dying lay. 

The horse was seen no more; 

By the light of the moonbeam cold 
They found the rider crushed and dead, 

With a message to Grant in his dying hold ; 
'' The rebels are moving, 

Prepare for attack; 
They've gained the road; 

Send no message back." 

For six long miles 

The orderly flew. 
At his commander's will. 

Mounted on steed so true ; 
Pursued, hemmed in, cut off. 

But somehow he hastened on. 
To a death of terrible doom 

And the judgment dawn. 

' ^eath the light of the stars. 

And the sound of the sentry's tread, 

They scooped a hasty place 
For his burial bed; 

Then they said a short prayer. 



EVENTIDE IN THE RIIINELAND. 219 

And moistened with tears the sod, 
And left him to the vigils of time 
And eternity's God. 



EVENTIDE IN THE RHINELAND. 



In the hright, beautiful Ehineland, 
When one golden day was ending, 

And the odorous vineland 

Was with purple clusters bending. 

And the western sun his light was lending; 

I saw her then in the eventide 

My bonnie, brown-eyed bride, 
It was the first time we met — 

Me and my Melo Glide. 
Oh, I see that ^dsion yet ! 

She was standing all alone. 

Mid light of her own making; 
Singing with softly tender tone. 

As the aspen leaves were shaking. 

And the soul's deep current waking. 
The river ran beside her feet. 
Oh, her voice was tender, sweet! 

I gazed and gazed my heart away, 



220 EYEXTIDE IN THE EHINELAND. 

In the sunny Rliinelancl's retreat, 
On the eve of that cle dining day. 

A golden glory filled the air, 

Lighting all the lovely scene, 
Tinging her rich auburn hair 

"With a celestial gleam, 

Breaking from heaven's court supreme; 
The drowsy humming hee. 
The restless rooks upon the lea, 

And the lark, uprising, gave 
A shadow of sublimity 

To mountain, meadow, wave. 

The distant shepherd's bell, 
The mournful monk at prayer. 

On my dreamy ear fell 
While I stood pondering there 
Of the Ehineland maiden fair; 

And believe me, on my word, 

Methought somehow I heard 
Cupid gently calling then. 

With voice which instant stirred 
Sylvan shadows in the glen. 

Upon her mirage in the stream 
She gazed with smiles and blushes, 



MY AY TO-IsinilT. 221 

111 a sort of seraph dream, 

As the water kissed the rushes, 

Startling the timid thrushes ; 
Then she took an arrow from her hair 
Which fell about her shoulders fair, 

And threw it with a little start 
In playful mood upon tlie air; 

Its silvers keejiiiess r)ierced mv heart. 



AWAY TO-NIGHT. 



Away to-night. 

Away from home and friends. 

While the light 

In the tear-dimmed sight 

Glimmers, and flickers, and blends; 

And faces strange 

Meet, my glance. 

With look askance 

As on I range. 

In a sort of trance. 

The world seems cold 

As hoarded gold. 

When lambs go wandering from the fold, 



222 MIDNIGHT ON THE BATTLE FIELD. 

And shepherds grow 

More gruff and grim, 

When the sun is low 

^N'ear the horizon's rim, 

If they must seek 

The fondhngs strayed, 

Over mountains hare and hleak. 



MIDNIGHT ON THE BATTLE FIELD. 



' Tis midnight on the hattle field, 
The wind's low moan is chill. 
Our army's on the march again. 
After the hattle of Chancellorsville; 
The drum's slow heat 
And weary feet 
Tell of courage tried; 
Brave souls, of honor horn, 
Their manly leader's pride. 

The moonheam's silvery gleam 

Gilds with heauty that marl of death ; 

Hushed and silent now, 

Is the angry foeman's hreath; 

All peaceful, still, 



MIDNIGHT ON THE BATTLE FIELD. 223 

They slumber on the hill, 
While the sentinel stars above 
Look down in sorrow, 
From seraph lands of love. 

The prowling cat and hungry wolf 
Have gathered on the mead, 
They tear anew, in heaven's view, 
"Wounds of death that bleed; 
Their famished jaws 
And angry claws 
Tear with a sensation sore 
Flesh from the fairest form 
A mother ever bore. 

The sinless angels of the sky 

Shudder such sights to see, 

While some soldier's soul 

Goes speeding away to the realms of eternity; 

Alone in the darkness there, 

Grrown frantic with despair. 

Some slowly-dying soul 

Struggles the burial clods 

From his bosom to roll. 

Thus the cheerless night went by. 
And the misty morning gray 



224 SITTING AT THE STILE. 

Broke up in the dull sky, 
Wliere the dead and dymg lay; 
While all along the line 
Some shattered pine, 
Or strong oaken hold, 
Grim tales of war 
Their storv told. 



SITTING AT THE STILE. 



I'm sitting at the stile, Mary, 

Waiting now for you. 
While the moonbeams glimmer on the grass 

With a glorious, golden hue. 
The merry lark is singing 

Like a herald of the morn. 
And the drowsy beetle flits, 

While I lino-er here forlorn. 



'& 



The stars of heaven shine, Mary, 
And softly twinkle 'round. 

The rippling rills go murmuring 
Love's sweet, seraph sound. 

Some mystic presence seems 
Sent by Cupid's care 



SITTIXa AT THE STILE. 225 

To dim the brightness of my life 
With the shadow of despair. 

A¥hy sit I at the stile, Mary, 

Since you so fickle proved, 
And went ofl:" with another 

Whose soul is more coarsely grooved; 
Thouglitless of the anguish 

Thou didst waken in my heart, 
Thrilling through its center, 

Like a deadly, poisoned dart. 

I linger at the stile, Mary, 

Because of the hope you bore. 
When fancy's fairy argos 

Landed at love's shore. 
In the May-day of our spring. 

As we builded castles fair, 
By the light of soft, celestial tapers, 

Burning brightly in the air. 

That vision's sped away, Mary, 

And I think it cruel, too, 
That those shining castles fell 

Because thou wert untrue; 
For the heart that once 

Hath sipped from love's bowl. 



226 OUR SLEEPING DEAD. 

That sweet, delicious draught 
Will move to madness the soul. 

I wait and watch for thee, Mary, 

Through the long and dreary nights, 
And ofttimes see thee coming 

In my imagination's sights; 
As the angels, silken shod, 

Waft their velvet wings, 
Around the orient's golden crest. 

When the curfew vesper rings. 

In the other world, Mary, 

Beyond the crystal sea, 
If the light of thine eye 

Falls not kindly on me, 
And if there is no stile 

Where I may waiting stay, 
The rays of eternal brightness. 

Will fall cheerless on my way. 



OUR SLEEPING DEAD. 



Softly step and lightly tread, 
For on those southern grounds 
Lie buried now the nation's dead; 



OUR SLEEPING DEAD. 227 

Beneath the tangled grass 

In the deep morass, 

In each silent nook we pass, 

Some comrade true, 

Who wore the army blue. 

Lies sleeping now the sleep of death, 

Under the daisies and the dew. 

The running rill 

Or moaning wind, 

Past mount or hill. 

Breaks not the spell 

Which 'round those sleepers dwell. 

On open plain, or in secluded dell, 

Who neglected there hath lain 

Since freedom's sons, and union guns, 

Broke slavery's cruel chain. 

On the outmost post 

Of Columbia's coast; 

To celestial music 

March our maimed and murdered host, 

Led by Lincoln's soul. 

Through lands of light they stroll 

All noiselessly away, 

To the bright camping grounds 

Of eternal day. 



HOPE ON. 

Oil, let them sleep 

Through the ages still, 

As the winds of eternity sweep 

Down creation's hill; 

Till the herald of morn shall fly. 

Calling those sleepers 

To the encampment of the sky, 

From their cold retreat 

To the bliss and glory 

Of the 2:olden street. 



HOPE ON. 



Hope on, hope ever, 
Yield to fate never; - 
For beyond the dim hills 
Grlows the paradise light forever. 

Beyond the darkness and gloom. 
Beyond the dim isles of the tomb, 
Angels bright, heavenly, stray. 
Through fragrance and flowery perfume. 

And, standing there, sings 

Hope the bright angel with glittering wings 



HOPE OX. 229 



Melodies fine, 

Of heaven and heavenly things. 

On that bright shore, 
When life's battles are o'er, 
Fate with his fearless frown 
Shall be seen nevermore. 

In that fair land of bloom, 
'No raven of gloom 
Or shadowy phantom 
Flits 'round the tomb. 

But angels of light. 

With crowns fair and bright. 

Everywhere meet 

The celestial wanderer's sight. 

From harp strings of gold 
Soft-sounding anthems are rolled. 
More mellow and rare 
Than mortal e'er told. 



And Peris divine. 

In the celestial light's shine. 

In attitudes bow 

'Round Alla's bright shrine; 



230 BURIED YEAKS. 

While meandering go 
Silvered rivers aglow 
With the paradise light, 
In one eternal flow. 

Then ever hope on, 
Through darkness and dawn, 
For the celestial harp strings 
Vibrate with heavenly song. 

And never despair 
When the hearth-stone's bare, 
For the sunshine of life 
Griows bright over there. 



BURIED YEARS. 



Buried years, 

Full of tears. 

Full of hopes and fears. 

Lost in the gulf of time; 

Still we hear your dying chime. 

Like a silver thread. 

Or a weight of lead 

Sounding from the coffined dead. 



BURIED YEARS. 231 

Quick you went, 
And were spent 
Like a flash in the firmament; 
But a Kngering gleam 
Like a meteor's sheen, 
Breaking amid silvery spray, 
Flashes back to-day 
Joys as you sped away. 

Still lingers yet 

Some fond regret. 

Where kindred met; 

Before fate's band 

Sailed past eternity's strand, 

Carrying away 

Through the river's spray 

The lonely widow's stay. 

From the gulf of time, 
Deep and sublime, 
Echoes back your dying chime ; 
As year by year, 
Fled past us here, 
Scarce missed till gone, 
Like dews upon the lawn. 
Vanished in the early dawn. 



232 BURIED YEARS. 

Til Oil liast flown 

Into the iinkiiOAvn, 

Numbered by the Lord alone ; 

For some purpose grand 

We may not understand ; 

But still there conies, 

With the receding suns, 

Sad memories, like muffled drums. 

Commoners and peers, 

As eternity nears. 

Regret those buried years ; 

But they cannot call 

One moment back, though small, 

In which to rio:lit 

The soul all pure and bright 

For its eternal flior-lit. 

Away from earth, 

From joy and mirth, 

Beyond the mystic birth; 

Where man shall stand 

On the shores of the heavenly land, 

To receive his doom 

For the lake of gloom. 

Or regions bright with bloom. 



MABEL MAY. 233 

MABEL MAY. 



Dwelt a lonely cotter 

In a secluded way, 
Who had an only daughter, 

E'amed Mabel May. 

Her face was very fair. 

And her eyes of liquid light 

Shown like an angel's rare 
Viewed in the northern night. 

She was nature's child. 

Reared among the mountain herds 
And ptarmigan wild ; 

Of few and loving words. 

She fished in the fairest streams. 

With an amber hook, 
Which shot its brightest gleams 

Into every darkened nook. 

And oft in nature's hush, 
When no sound was stirring 

Save the speckled thrush 

Or the woodpecker's burring, 



234 MABEL MAY. 

I've heard her tune 

Her talking timbrel 
To the laughing moon, 

On the balmy breeze's swell. 

And once as she sang 

Some selected line, 
The hills resounding rang 

With the chorus all divine. 

Angels were in waiting. 
Though unseen, around. 

And they joined in making 
The chorus more profound. 

A soft, celestial ray 

Falling from the gate of gold 
Broke brightly 'round Mabel May, 

In that wooded wold. 

Two forms arrayed in white, 

Shining and so fair. 
Climbed the azure height, 

With Mabel between them there. 

By her grave 'neath the willow tree 
Ofttimes mournful sits 



NO EARTHLY VOICE. 235 

Her father wearily, • 

As the darkening daylight flits. 

On a stone of fairest marble, 

Carved with skill and care, 
Eeads '' Our darling Mabel 

Sings with the shining fair." 

And remembrance dear, 

Winging in silence away, 
Ofttimes sheds a tear 

For the lovely Mabel May. 



NO EARTHLY VOICE. 



While crossing a lonely wold 

One dark and dismal night, 
I met a madman crippled and old, 

Whom I took for the devil's sprite. 
His form was lank and long, 

His face was haggard and wan; 
And the burden of his song 

Was, "Help me if you can." 

What wouldst thou have," said I, 
'' That I can now bestow?" 



236 KO EARTHLY VOICE. 

He leered, with tlie light of hell in his eye, 
And said, ''Mercy from helow." 
"From that dread domain. 

Or its ruler with heartless heart, 

'No mercy can you gain : 

Then tell me what thou art." 

He spoke with a weird and woefril wail : 
"Look away ofi* yonder in the air. 

Where the wind whirls wild in a frisky gale; 
' Twas there I prayed my last prayer, 

And sold my soul for the devil's toll. 
That the mills of God might grind a man; 

Then help me if you can." 

I left the barren moor; 

I left the green sea lea; 
I ran as I never run before. 

For that shape of hell was after me. 
I could hear his clattering stride 

And feel his panting breath ; 
He was running at my side 

The race of life and death. 

I ran, I flew, with hair on end, 

I ran a brooklet through. 
And this the charm dispelled : 



NEARING THE END. 237 

For I never saw him more. 
And I never crossed the wold amain; 

I ran till I reached my cottage door. 
But oft, in seeming, I've run that race again. 



NEARING THE END. 



Over the hill-tops of life, 
Down into the valley we wend; 

Growing more aged and gray, 

Soon to separate, comrade and friend. 

We who fought to the death 

In the years long ago : 
Those who shot at the flag, 

And made us their foe. 

Since the last battle, my comrades, 

Since the Union was saved, 
Time has been silvering our hairs, 

Like the sheen of the wave. 

Since those rebel prison pens 
Barred in such dreadful woes. 

Many surviving comrades have gone 
To meet our Union's foes; 



238 NEARING THE END. 

Wlio madly fought and fell, 
In the fearful crash and strife 

Of a grand and mighty nation 
Struggling for union and for life. 

Many a soldier has been placed at rest 
Since Johnson and since Lee 

Laid down their arms 

In the face of earth and Deity. 

Over on the celestial parade ground, 
Beyond this world's hem, 

We may meet and recognize 
Those misguided men. 

For soon the death angel will come. 
As near to the valley we wend, 

Seeking the aged and gray, 

And all who are nearing the end. 

Old army boys so true. 

Who rallied at the call : 
Time is thinning out our ranks, 

Soon the last must fall. 

But wherever it may be. 
Under whatever sky. 



DEATH AND THE FAIRY FAY. 239 

On the fair, briglit shore 
We'll gather by and by. 

For beyond the dim hills 

Glows the bright light of life, 
Where the soldier rnay bivouac 

Safe from all strife. 

Where comrade and where friend, 

^'evermore shall part 
Throughout the endless ages 

Of eternity's chart. 



DEATH AND THE FAIRY FAY. 



Once a fairy fay 

Held in nay heart command ; 
Her winsome smiles, na, na, 

I could not withstand. 

But Death led her away 

With his icy hand, 
In her morning of May, 

From this earthly strand. 

I don't know the w^ay, 
Whether by sea or land. 



240 THE PARADISE LIGHT. 

They journeyed that day 
Over the golden sand. 

For I scarcely can say 
That I rightly understand 

Whence they did stray, 
At our Lord's command. 

Or what welcome gay 

She received from the angel band; 
Where saints and patriarchs gray, 

Round the shrine of glory stand. 

For the brightness of the ray, 

And the mystic wand, 
Obscure my mental sway. 

As to what doth there portend. 



THE PARADISE LIGHT. 



Over the river, 
Beyond the night, 
Grlitters and gleams 
The paradise light. 



THE PARADISE LIGHT. 241 

Too brilliant for mortal, 
Too bright to behold, 
From this shoal of time 
"Where the winds whistle cold. 

Over there, minaret 
And tower sublime 
Are bathed with a flow 
Effiilgent, divine. 

There, seraphic and grand. 
The radiance and gleam 
Break gently around 
On the bright water's sheen. 

And the throne of our God 
In the center doth stand, 
Sinless and pure. 
All sainted and grand. 

Where blest Peris 
In attitudes pray, 
Crowned brilliant and bright 
In the light of its ray. 

There seraphs so fair 
Cast halos around. 



242 THE PARADISE LIGHT. 

From turbans of glory 
All loose and unbound. 



There silvery apples, 
On stems of bright gold, 
Reflect back the ray 
As onward 'tis rolled. 

Aglow with this light 
Are the bowers of bliss, 
Where loving angels stray. 
And never wander amiss. 

And pilgrims that pass 
Just under the rod 
Are instantly changed 
By the glory of God. 

Over there golden cups 
Lie 'round the lake. 
Where admitted souls 
Deep draughts of glory take 

Which throw back the glow, 
Through the outermost sky, 
To light the bright angels 
That thitherward fly. 



FAIRY SHORE. 243 

In yonder fair world 

Vast multitudes stand, 

With crowns on their foreheads, 

And palms in their hand. 

Waiting to welcome mortals away, 
From the world and its night, 
Full into the radiance 
Of the paradise light. 



FAIRY SHORE. 



Golden gleams 
From the fairy shore, 
Through breaking clouds 
Sometimes come streaming o'er. 
To cheer the drooping soul 
Amid the battle of life, 
And its roar. 

Toiling ever. 
Toiling on, 
Through daylight 
And through dawn, 
Those cheering gleams 



244 FAIRY SHORE. 

Seem angel mercies 

In our dreams, 

Come to light the soul away 

From the gloom of earth 

To the gates of day. 

And now and then 
We seem to see 
Some snowy form 
From over the sea, 
We used to know 
When life was all aglow. 
Beckoning to the fairy strand 
- Friends from this earthly land, 
Over the distant way, 
Out of darkness into day, 
Which we so little understand. 




N. B. — This volume will he forwarded to any address in 
the United States on receipt of j^^ice, $2.00. 

John Preston Campbell, 

p. 0. Box 163. Abilene, Kansas. 



71 Q 



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